Vengeance
by JustBFree5
Summary: Nolan and Emily, from the very beginning.
1. Chapter 1

That day had started as any other day for Nolan Ross.

He woke up beside his boyfriend at 6am. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, dressed for the day and sipped at a cup of coffee while checking on his stock market share as he waited for Marco to finish his own shower and get dressed so they could drive in to work together.

It was a Tuesday, which meant it was Marco's turn to drive them in his car, a smart silver Lexus. When it was Nolan's day to drive, they would take his black BMW. They were running a bit late, but what did that matter? Nolan was the CEO and Marco was his CFO, no one would give them any grief for being a little late for having stopped at a Starbucks on the way into the office.

 _It pays to be the boss_ , he mused as he looked out the window and took in the view from his high-rise apartment.

It was the year 2001 and things were going so very well. Nolan was fully coming into his own as a man. He had developed ideas upon ideas for new technologies and cyber applications, so many ideas that he'd had to establish his own company to contain and develop them. It had taken him years of determination and one small initial investment for NolCorp to get on its feet, and now it was fast becoming a known name in the budding cybertech industry.

And Nolan himself? Nolan Ross, the one who had dreamed as a child and studied as a teenager and struggled so damn hard as a young man?

For the first time in his life, Nolan Ross was happy.

The man had fought for this life and earned his happiness.

The money that his company was generating had bought him more than just mere things. Yes of course he enjoyed the flashy fast cars, for every man was still a boy at heart, and yes of course he was having fun showing off in fine clothes and dining out in five-star rated restaurants and being sought after by celebrities and journalists eager to hear his story.

Yes, the money and the fame that had come with his rising star was all very appealing to his vanity, but there was so much more that was shaping his life behind the scenes.

His money and his eccentric genius had bought him a measure of freedom. Where he had spent so much of his life hiding who he was behind library stacks and computer screens and thick Coke-bottle glasses, he now could live outside the shadow of his father and that small town in Vermont where he'd been so horribly stifled.

Here, now, after the new millennium and with so much rewarding hard work, Nolan Ross was free to flourish as the man he truly was. He was living a public life with his boyfriend and despite a measure of stigma, he was earning the respect of colleagues and rivals alike.

He and Marco were in love and building a real life together - this above everything was what had brought Nolan fully into himself as a man.

For the first time in the entire span of his life, Nolan Ross was loved and accepted, he was believed in and respected. He was gaining confidence and a strength he'd never known before.

 _Yes. I'm happy_ , he thought as he felt the small bulge in his breast pocket. _Only one thing can make me happier._

He looked up and smiled as Marco came into the room and took up his briefcase and keys, ready to tackle another day at NolCorp.

"Are you ready?" Marco asked.

Nolan nodded and straightened his tie, at once nervous and excited for their day ahead.

Looking back on those days, at how sweet and relatively carefree a life he'd lead, Nolan sometimes wondered if what followed was somehow the cost for that happiness, if such happiness had had to be paid for by everything that came after.

To this day he still wasn't sure.

Nolan did miss those days, but he'd known down to his bones from that first day and the day that he'd kidnapped Amanda Clarke, that there would be no going back.


	2. Chapter 2

The media declared it the **Crime of the Century**.

Americon Initiative warned that this was only their first strike.

The people flooded the nation's streets for vigils, for protests and riots. The world had changed, this new method of mass killing would shape a dreadful future.

Those who lost a loved one had only one word for that day: horror.

* * *

Nolan Ross had watched the news footage much the same as anyone else in the world - shocked, numb with desperate denial, helpless to do anything but watch as flight 197 dipped from its path in the sky and came down like an arrow, striking the center of the city, piercing the heart of America.

His stomach twisted and his heart clenched. It had to be hundreds dead, the airline passengers and those in the city.

The news droned on. No commercials, just a constant stream of that awful footage and a skyline undone by this...this...

 _Horror._

Nolan had had to pull himself away from the television, pacing the length of his office with a sick, dreadful energy - until he looked out the window and caught sight of the rising smoke in the distance.

The impact. The crash site.

The dead were burning only blocks away.

Over the ringing in his ears, it occurred to Nolan that, if he'd only had the money at the time he founded NolCorp, he might've chosen to house his company in a more centrally located building - his previous lack of funds had saved his life and the lives of everyone around him.

Dizziness washed over him and for a moment Nolan was sure he would be sick. At once he was cold and hot, his legs suddenly weak. He turned away from the window and leaned heavily on his desk, waiting for the moment to pass. He looked up, startled back to reality as Marco staggered into his office.

Nolan would never forget how Marco had been broken that day.

 _"Nolan, Marisol was on that plane!"_

* * *

Nolan had done everything he could for Marco in private and everything he could for his employees and the panicking public.

Marco, he took away to his beach house. The man was inconsolable, the loss of his twin was a pain beyond words - the other half of his soul had been ripped from the world, never to speak or sing or laugh or love again. Marisol was gone, she was one woman among hundreds whose ashes lingered in the air surrounding a great flaming crater in the center of New York.

Nolan had met her several times over the course of his relationship with Marco and they'd gotten along very well. Aside from her wicked sense of humor and interesting views on politics, she had accepted Nolan - any man who could make her brother so happy was a friend to her, she'd told him.

 _Marisol._

Lovely, charming and sweet. Nolan had allowed himself to think of her as his own sister when he thought of the future and of being embraced by the Romero family.

And now there was nothing left of her.

Not even a body to bury.

Marco had withdrawn inside of himself, shutting out the world that was still turning.

Nolan retreated from the city as well. The offices of NolCorp stood empty for weeks. Most of his employees were doing distance work, choosing to stay home with their families and wait for the Initiative's promised next attack. Nolan not only allowed this, he encouraged it. His people were too afraid to come back to the city and while he hated to admit his cowardice, he was afraid too.

The uplifting messages he wrote to his employees and his statements to news outlets were all bravado. So many words encouraging resilience, joining dozens of other public voices espousing the unique American ideals of resiliency, strength in the face of adversity and joining together during this time of uncertainty...

Empty words, all of them.

Hundreds of people were dead, hundreds more had been critically wounded.

Marco had lost his beloved Marisol and Nolan feared he would lose himself. On the occasion that Marco left their bed, it was only to rage at Nolan or raid the bar.

He allowed the abuse because he knew Marco didn't mean any of it and was only searching for a target; Nolan was simply convenient, the only other person in the house where Marco could focus his pain. And gods above, Marco was in such horrible, wrenching pain. When he was awake he could think of nothing else, when he slept he could dream of nothing else.

Nolan didn't know what to do.

He felt trapped. The one Nolan loved most now seemed to hate him and everything else in the world.

Nolan missed Marco, he wanted his friend back.

He wanted the world to feel safe again, but even his remote house in the Hamptons felt vulnerable, a great glass target built into the cliffs open to attack by bullets or a bomb. How changed he was now, how immediately jaded and paranoid and hateful.

All the happiness he'd fought for seemed a distant memory.

Nolan sighed and opened the desk drawer of his home office and retrieved the box he'd been carrying with him on that day. Yes, the last day where life was bright and full of love. He opened the box and stroked his thumb over the gold band nestled between the velvet inserts.

Marriage between men wasn't acknowledged legally - _yet_ \- but Nolan thought little of that. He'd had a plan in place for that day. Rather than going home after work, Nolan had intended to lure Marco up to the roof where a romantic dinner would be waiting.

Roses, champagne and the city laid out before them...

It'd been a beautiful plan, if a bit unoriginal. Nolan had known down to his bones the evening would have lead to one word, _yes,_ and two matching rings. It would have been a night to remember - passion and peace and pure joy. Their wedding would have brought the world to its knees for its glamour. Vera Wang tuxedos, Tiffany & Co. rings, the most majestic venue, the freshest flowers, the finest food and the most beautiful music.

All that splendor would be the show put on for the public, the Hollywood aspect of Nolan's life. There would be a more intimate wedding held in private for Nolan and Marco. Nolan's father would never accept his love for a man, and Nolan had had to make his peace with that. He had other family who would attend, and Marco had more than enough family to make up for Nolan's lack thereof.

Marisol would have given Marco away.

Those had been Nolan's plans, his great ideas for a beloved future.

But now?

Now, poor Marco was a shadow of himself.

Nolan hated all faiths but even he had grown desperate enough to pray for Marco to come back, for the world to make sense again.

He huffed and snapped the ring box closed, setting it back in its place and slamming the drawer shut.

* * *

Three weeks passed.

Weeks of fury as citizens turned on each other, driven by fear and confused anger. Three weeks of politicians bickering on television, radio hosts raging on every station, every talk show fixated on the crash.

The deliberate, targeted plane crash orchestrated by Americon Initiative.

Three weeks until a name was finally released to the public.

"...earlier tonight the FBI confirmed the arrest of David Clarke in connection with Americon Initiative's homeland terrorist network. Clarke, a hedge fund manager for the financial group Grayson Global, is seen here being taken into custody by US Marshals and..."

The television remote slipped from numb fingers as Nolan sank to his knees in the living room, horrified and unbelieving.

 _David?_

David Clarke, _his_ David?

It couldn't be - it wasn't!

Through the deafening sound of a wind tunnel, there was Marco's voice. "Nolan...Nolan..."

The hand shaking his shoulder snapped Nolan out of his trance of denial. "Huh?"

Marco held out a phone to him, his eyes and voice still flat from the loss he'd suffered. It was only recently that Marco was starting to engage with the world again.

"It's your lawyer."

Head still buzzing with shock, Nolan took the phone and forced his eyes away from the screen splashed with David's mugshot - his _mugshot_ , for Christ's sake!

What the hell was happening?

Nolan cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Mr. Ross."

Denise Walker, his PR attack dog, was a consummate professional. The woman could be on fire and her voice wouldn't waver. She had made a lifelong habit of going above and beyond for her clientele, earning every penny of her exorbitant rates - which is why she had already put safe-guards in place and taken every step necessary to protect Nolan from the moment she'd learned of the David Clarke arrest. Calling Mr. Ross now was only a formality.

"Denise..."

"I trust you've seen the news, sir."

"I...yes, just now. Channel 5."

"I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that it's on every channel, sir."

No.

A face to finally put to the Initiative. A name to blame. A target for the collective rage and despair of the country.

No. It didn't surprise him that the world was watching.

"I..."

"I've already put together a statement distancing you from Mr. Clarke should it ever come to light that he was your initial investor, though I have buried that as well. Preservation of NolCorp's integrity is paramount, you cannot afford to be seen as associated with him in any way."

"He's my friend-" Nolan started.

"Mr. Ross. Your friend, your primary investor, has just been arrested in connection with a terrorist attack on American soil. Over 200 people have been murdered. You cannot help the man if you are viewed as an accessory."

"You want to help him too?"

"No." The voice on the other end of the line was firm and direct. "He's a prime suspect at this time but innocent until proven guilty. I'm not his lawyer, I don't care what happens to him. I'm _your_ lawyer, and I only care what happens to my clients. I know you want to help your friend, but you can't help him if you're arrested in connection with his alleged crimes. The best thing you can do for now is distance yourself. If you are ever approached by any members of the press, your only response is two words."

"He's innocent!" Nolan asserted.

"No comment." She corrected.

"I...all right." Nolan relented.

Denise was a great asset to him for this very reason - she was firm, direct and so logical she could shame a Vulcan. Nolan's friendship to the man meant nothing; if he wanted to help David, and he did, desperately, then he had to distance himself publicly and find a way to provide his aid in secret.

"Do you know what's going to happen to him?"

Denise rolled a pen between her fingers, content that her prize client was swayed to the gravity of the situation. She admired Mr. Ross very much; he was a man with a soft heart, but that soft heart of his could be used against him all too easily. Denise would do everything in her power to protect the man from himself - it was her prime directive to do so.

"There will be a federal hearing, but there's no chance in hell that Mr. Clarke will be granted bail. He has an exorbitant amount of money at his disposal, even with his private assets frozen. He has access to three private jets, he owns properties abroad and several of them are in countries with no extradition. He will stay in prison as the case builds and a trial is eventually held."

A thought struck Nolan, and he was ashamed that he hadn't thought of her sooner. "What about Amanda?"

Through the line, he could hear rapid keystrokes and mouse-clicks. "She was in the house with him when the FBI made the arrest."

"How do you know that? Do you know where she is?"

"I have a friend in the bureau." Denise confided. "She's been taken to Millhouse. It's a center for disturbed children."

Nolan shot to his feet. "What?! She's not disturbed!"

"She's being evaluated."

"We have to get her out of there. He's arrested and she's immediately taken to a mental institution? No, Denise, something's not right." Nolan cast his eyes about him, looking for his keys as rapid, half-panicked ideas chased each other through his head.

 _This is wrong, everything about this is so wrong!_

As Denise had been sent a copy of the arrest report, she had dismissed the girl and moved on to put her protective measures for NolCorp and Mr. Ross himself in place. That Mr. Ross was showing concern for the girl now was telling - if Amanda Clarke was important to Mr. Ross, then Amanda Clarke was now important to Denise Walker.

"I am inclined to agree, Mr. Ross."

"Where'd you say she was, again? Millhouse, that's upstate isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

Nolan found his wallet and shoved it in his back pocket, then grabbed his keys and strode toward the garage where his car awaited him. "Stay put, I'm coming to get you."

"Why, sir?"

"We're going to Millhouse and getting Amanda out of there."

There was no other course of action that Nolan could take. He didn't even stop to tell Marco what was happening or where he was going. He had spent weeks living like a coward, hiding at home, terrified of the Initiative's next attack, taking all the abuse Marco could muster toward him, feeling helpless and confused and so damn worthless-

 **No.**

That was over, all of it. Everything was clear now, and Nolan knew what he was going to do.

"Sir, I really must advise-"

Nolan closed his eyes, blocking her protests and focusing his thoughts - forcing out doubt, fear of failure and any caution of the law.

At once, he had only one goal.

One mission.

"Denise. We can't free David but we will free his daughter. Today. Whatever it takes."


	3. Chapter 3

Nolan Ross was ever a thinker.

At his core, he was still the dreamer who enjoyed reading and math, content to be left alone to his own devices. His mind was a thing of wonder - there was no machine, circuit or bit of chemistry that was beyond him, by all accounts the man was a genius.

A genius who had been relatively alone for years, until one man had come into his life and changed everything.

Nolan Ross had been a restless MIT dropout when David, distracted by troubles at home, had run Nolan's bicycle off the road.

Nolan had been all right but his bicycle hadn't been so lucky. David, hoping to avoid a lawsuit and also a decent human being, had offered Nolan a ride and in the course of a twenty minute drive, came to realize the massive untapped potential in the younger man.

From there grew a partnership that had borne NolCorp and changed the view of the entire technological landscape.

Being the focal point of such a massive impact on the world, Nolan had learned the importance of immediate adaptation.

In less than a decade, Nolan had gone from a frustrated dropout to a genuine tech idol whose favor could influence the tide of the American economy.

Genius, innovator, titan.

And yet Nolan never forgot where he came from nor could he ever, ever forget the man who had given him his start.

His friend and mentor.

The one man who had believed in him.

The one man who had listened.

David Clarke.

David Clarke, now accused and arrested as the lone suspect in connection with Americon Initiative's horrific terrorist attack that had left hundreds dead.

As it was, Nolan didn't know where David was or have the first idea of how to help him - but on learning that David' daughter Amanda had immediately been confined to a shaded mental hospital, Nolan knew what he had to do.

His lawyer, however, was less than convinced.

"Sir, this is all very sudden."

Nolan shuffled the documents that he'd typed up at her office while they'd had their ten minute brainstorm.

In all honesty Denise was surprised at this side of her client. She'd thought she'd played things out for him well enough over the phone in regard to burying his connection to David Clarke - for anyone to learn of the man's funding NolCorp was sure to spell an immediate end to the company and her client.

Mr. Ross understood the logic in that and had agreed to keep quiet, however he was dead-set on claiming Clarke's daughter and her every argument against this had fallen on deaf ears. He had come to collect her and laid out his half-cocked plan to stage this "rescue", as he insisted on calling it, which if the police became involved would land them both in a cell right next to David Clarke himself.

Still, Mr. Ross had made it clear that he was going after Amanda Clarke with or without her, so what else could Denise do but go along with this and make sure the man didn't get himself arrested?

"You always said you wanted Marco and I to make a solid commitment." Nolan reminded her.

Denise rolled her eyes at the man's joke. Did he even know how to care for a child? And Mr. Romero was not fit to be near a child at a time like this.

Especially _this_ child.

"I meant a dog! Have you even told him?"

Nolan shook his head and handed the folder to her. He looked out the window, satisfied to see that their driver had just exited the highway. It wouldn't be long now.

"No, I think it'll be a nice surprise."

"Mr. Ross-"

"Denise, I know how bizarre this all is. Believe me, I do, but none of this is right and you know it." The man took a deep breath and looked her, "I want Amanda Clarke out of that place in one hour. Am I understood?"

Denise's jaw worked back and forth, words longing to escape but she held her tongue. "Yes, sir."

Their driver slowed and then finally stopped before a bland administrative building, the words **Millhouse Behavioral Clinic** screened onto the front window. Nolan had skimmed the company website before hacking in for the layout of the entire facility. He knew that the building before them was for the head staff and that there was another, much larger building further in that housed the patients.

Amanda was in there, somewhere.

He turned back to Denise and took her hands into his; he knew she disapproved and was only going along with this to appease him, but it wasn't enough. He had to know that she truly believed in what he was doing.

Nolan furrowed his brow, "You've met her. Amanda is a girl who's got to be scared out of her mind, being caught up in all this. I'm going to give her a home until David is cleared. She is not her father. You know that, don't you?"

At his words, Denise sighed lightly. However misguided his actions, the man's heart was in the right place. For him, she would do this.

"Yes, Mr. Ross."

"That's all I needed to hear." He took in another deep breath, priming himself. "All right. Now, let's go get my girl."

* * *

"I understand that this is a unique situation, I do. But what I can't understand is why this child's legal guardianship was completely overlooked."

Under Denise's sharp stare, the clinic's head administrator cowered. Jim Dawson had had better days. A light sweat had broken over his brow and his stutter, once thought conquered, had resurfaced under her withering look. "It was...under the circumstances, we felt it would be necessary-"

"Necessary to seize a child during a police raid and confine her to a group home for disturbed children with no notice to her next of kin?"

Jim hurriedly cleared his throat and willed his hands to stop fidgeting. "Given who raised this child, every precaution needed to be taken in learning what she was exposed to."

At that, Denise barked out a harsh laugh. Oh, she was enjoying this. "And you thought the best place to take these precautions was at Millhouse? You and I both know this place is run like Arkham Asylum. Who's her therapist, Harley Quinn?"

At her joke, he shot to his feet, "That is completely unjustified-"

"No, what's unjustified is the seizure of a minor during a police raid, and her subsequent confinement to Millhouse, all done without cause, permission or even notification to her legal guardian."

"Amanda Clarke has no legal guardian-"

"No? Then what is this? A legal guardian declaration notarized by Judge Alberts ... I'm sure she'd love to know how many other patient's legal rights have been overlooked or, in this case, completely ignored." Denise slapped the packet down on his desk, then withdrew another from her folder. "And this? This is an immediate order to get Amanda Clarke out of that place. And this? This is just a blank sheet of paper waiting for you to type out a resignation letter citing your prejudiced lack of judgement where Amanda Clarke was concerned."

"You can't-"

"No, we already have. I suggest that the last phone call you make from this office is to alert the staff there that Nolan Ross and Denise Walker are on their way up to collect."

Jim blinked, sure he had misheard her. "Nolan Ross? You don't mean-?"

" _The_ Nolan Ross, yes. And trust me when I say that he sent me in to be the good cop, because the man is _livid_." Denise checked her watch. "He gave me an hour, but I'm not so patient. If Amanda Clarke is not under his care within the next ten minutes, I can promise that Mr. Ross will bankrupt you, Millhouse, and the entire state in a class action lawsuit that will be taken all the way to the Supreme Court if he wants it to, and I promise that he will do it with a smile. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

Denise flashed her fangs in a shark smile. Mr. Ross never asked for much from her, but when he did, she always had her fun. "These records will be sealed. If even half a word of this is breathed to the public, Nolan Ross will bring down such a shitstorm over this office that you won't be fit to work turning tricks at the bus station in Juarez."

With that, Denise turned on her heel and stalked out of the office, slamming his door on her way out.

Nolan, who had been lingering in the hallway, had heard everything and sidled up to match her step, purring into her ear, "You have any idea how sexy you are?"

Denise hardly blinked at his compliment. "Of course I do, and so does my husband."

"Lucky bastard." He said enviously.

"That's what I keep telling him."

The hard clicks of her Louboutins echoed down the hall of the office, leaving Nolan glad to know that she was on his side.

* * *

There were certain things a man had to do himself.

Rescuing a friend was one of them.

He left Denise and their driver at the administration building and took the car himself up to the central facility. Denise was one of the few people he trusted, but outside of his personal trust, he knew she was bound by the law to maintain confidentiality with his actions - she could not break his trust without losing her career.

The driver, Nolan trusted him to keep the car on the road and his mouth firmly shut - the man had passed his background screening, which was good enough to keep him employed at NolCorp for the last three years with no issue. However, Nolan didn't trust the man enough to let him in on the real reason for their visit upstate; he'd been careful to have the soundproof screen up for the duration of their ride, no need to let any extra ears in on the details of this operation.

So, Denise and the driver stood outside the administration building and took a smoke break while Nolan sped up the drive, kicking up gravel in his haste to get to Amanda.

Denise had worked her magic on the staff, but he was on a clock. The documents that he'd cooked up wouldn't pass muster under hard scrutiny - he doubted the director would push for the police or a court to verify, not after that lovely and very graphic picture Denise had painted, but Nolan would err on the side of caution.

Besides, from the look of this place, he was sure Amanda would be happy to leave as soon as she could. He frowned up at the nondescript building, the hard angles and uninspired landscaping.

 _Not a place for children - but I can't help them, I'm here for Amanda. Only Amanda._ He thought. He parked at the front steps and slid out of the car, ready to go inside to collect her, but he stopped short on the steps at the sound of the front doors opening.

And there she was.

Amanda Clarke.

How could it be that, despite everything, Nolan felt his chest thrum with happiness at the sight of her?

And what a sight she was.

Gangly with an overbite, flat-chested, a bit pimply and too moody at this age to be wholly likable.

God, he loved her.

On recognizing him, she rushed forward and Nolan swept her into his arms, twirling her once and setting her back on her feet. He put his hands over her shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "Oh, Amanda, let me look at you."

She looked all right to him - her face wasn't bruised, she only looked a bit gaunt, which had to be from the stress of the past several weeks. He knew he appeared far from his best; grief and raging paranoia had a way to wear down on one's looks.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. She'd lowered her voice and looked around, clearly worried they would be overheard and Nolan understood at once.

Poor Amanda was truly afraid. Afraid of this place, the people here. She was afraid for her father and even more afraid of the hope Nolan had stirred in her.

"I'm here to take you home." Nolan said easily, reaching to her shoulder to take her backpack.

A relief unlike any she'd ever known swept over her. She wouldn't be alone. Nolan had come for her. Everything might still turn out all right. Childish hopes from a young woman who had had her childhood ripped away in more ways than one.

"Home?"

"My house." He clarified.

"Why?"

Nolan glanced up and could see movement in the windows of the building - whether staff or other patients, he didn't know, but it was all the reminder he needed that the clock was ticking.

"Nolan. You don't think dad really did those things...?"

Her question had him frowning, "What do you take me for? Of course David didn't do any of it, and you better believe that I'm going to prove it. Now, get in the car and don't look back."

His confident reply didn't fully cover Nolan's nerves, and Amanda was all too aware of how quickly the man guided her into the vehicle and peeled away down the road.

* * *

After Millhouse, it was a game of musical chairs.

First Nolan moved into the backseat to sit with Amanda and Denise, letting their driver reclaim the wheel to take them back to the city.

Another switch took place at NolCorp that found Nolan and Amanda alone in his personal car after the driver was tasked with taking Denise back home so she could call it a day.

Had Denise not been married and Nolan not involved, he might've dropped to his knee with a proposal; truly the woman was magnificent.

Denise Walker, consummate professional that she was, merely thanked her employer and promised him a report in the morning. While Nolan and Amanda might be happy just to be reunited, Denise was determined to learn how Amanda had been placed at Millhouse in the first place.

Mr. Ross had been right to be so suspicious.

There was more at play here than any of them knew.

* * *

Nolan said goodnight to Denise and then returned to Amanda - now alone, they could finally, really talk.

"Nolan, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure, but then again I can't think straight on an empty stomach." He glanced across the street to a diner and asked, "Are you hungry?"

She was, but she had been so wracked with anxiety during her time in Millhouse that she'd hardly eaten a thing during the length of her stay.

Still, Nolan didn't wait for her answer as he took hold of her hand as they crossed the street, his grip oddly reassuring though Amanda usually rebelled against being treated like a child. Like all early teenagers, she thought of herself as a grown woman.

Well.

Her childhood was over, and any notion of carefree teen years had been trampled under the boots of a SWAT team storming into her home and everything that came after...

 _Don't think of that._

The diner was nearly empty, just a few other patrons were scattered throughout the place. Nolan was glad for that, the last thing Amanda would want right now would be a crowd. Nolan lead her to a booth near the back and slid onto the vinyl bench across from her, ordering coffee and a bagel from the visibly tired waitress. It was well past midnight, and while New York never slept, Sheila would rather be doing just that. So tired was she that she barely spared Nolan a glance, assuming he was just a man taking either his daughter or kid sister out for a late night bite. She took the order and pocketed the $20 he slipped her, sparing neither of them another thought.

"You should eat something." Nolan told her, offering half his bagel once it arrived. "It'll be awhile before we get home."

Amanda ignored his offer of food - she was so frustrated she could scream, but Nolan was her friend, he had taken her from Millhouse and as paranoid as she had become, she worried one cross word would have him drag her straight back there, to _that place_.

She wouldn't go back to that...that...

She couldn't.

So Amanda forced her voice to stay level and asked him, "We're going to your apartment?"

Nolan looked at her and then glanced back down to his food. "No, ah, I haven't been back there since - well, not since..."

"197. Nolan, dad didn't-"

"I know he didn't. Just like I knew I had to get you out of that place, I know David had nothing to do with what happened." The strength of his conviction could only be matched by Amanda's words in defense of her father - she'd screamed out his innocence for days before finally withdrawing from everyone in Millhouse.

Nolan shook his head. "I haven't been staying in the city. I have a house in the Hamptons."

Her eyes widened. "The Hamptons? That's where we were when the police came."

"Oh, Amanda! I'm sorry, I didn't even think of - as soon as I saw David on the news I rushed out, I wasn't paying any attention to where he was when he was arrested. We don't have to go there, I can get us a hotel room for tonight and then tomorrow-"

"No, Nolan, It's all right. It's fine. I didn't know you had a house out there, I'd like to see it." She said quickly, reassuring him. She was tired, so tired.

She didn't want to go to a hotel, she just wanted everything to _stop_ , she wanted to be in a safe place where she could be settled, where she could think.

Above everything, she wanted her father back. Her father could fix all of this, he would be the one to make the world right again and everything else would fall away like some awful dream.

Nolan gave her a brief smile. His house was a new acquisition, sort of a "stay-cation" investment, he told her. The man was a beach bum at heart and while he liked to travel, he still preferred to stay close enough to NolCorp headquarters in case anything came up that needed his personal attention.

"I love the house. Floor to ceiling windows, an infinity pool and the most amazing view. You know I always envied your father's beach house but I couldn't crash on the couch forever, so I got a place for myself the second I had the chance."

"And now it'll be me sleeping on your couch."

"No, not the couch. I have a room in mind for you."

"I can stay?" Amanda asked. She hadn't expected him to open his home to her past the night - that he was offering her haven was everything.

"Of course. You're like family to me. You'll stay as long as it takes for this to end."

All at once, the dam within her broke and Amanda was overwhelmed, sinking her face into her hands, sobbing heavily. She was trying to speak to him, but with her crying he could hardly make out what she was trying to say.

Nolan glanced around and noticed the looks she was drawing with her upset. "Come on, Amanda, take it easy. People are going to think I just dumped you."

His joke cut through her tears and Amanda snorted out a bark of sobbing laughter.

"Ah, now there's your smile. I knew it wouldn't be gone for long."

Amanda reached across the table and clutched his hands. "Nolan, thank you."

He squeezed her hands back, "What are families for?"

* * *

It was another hour on the road before Nolan pulled in and opened the front door, taking in the darkened house. Clearly Marco hadn't been waiting up, but the other man had hardly left their bed in weeks. He would give Amanda the grand tour in the morning. Between the adrenaline of rushing with Denise to Millhouse, rescuing Amanda and then the long drive back home, he was dog tired.

"Marco's upstairs." Nolan told her, voice soft.

"Marco?"

"You've met him a couple times, remember last summer at that party for Grayson Global? He's my...roommate. Just in case you get up before I do and bump into him in the morning." Nolan lied easily; a harmless white lie, really. It was late, and so much had happened, he wasn't in the mood to explain his relationship at the moment.

God knew what he would tell Marco in the morning, he could only pray the other man would understand.

He lead her into the guest room, turning on the light and shrugging. "It's pretty plain, I know. I haven't done any decorating in here but we can go shopping tomorrow. We can paint the walls, pull up the carpet if you want-"

"You don't have to do any of that for me." He had opened his home to her, anything else was too much for her to accept.

"Yes I do." Nolan moved in close and knelt before her on one knee, taking her hands into his. Anyone watching would have thought him a man ready to propose.

Well.

He was ready, but the ring he'd bought wasn't meant for her.

"I'd be nothing without your father, he believed in me when no one else did. I need you to believe in me too. Please Amanda, please believe me when I say, anything you want and anything you need, just say the word and I'll do it for you."

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course."

Nolan moved to sit in the chair set in the corner of the room, shifting around until he was relatively comfortable. Amanda turned off the light and he could hear the rustling of clothes as she took off her shoes, hoodie and jeans, then she got into the bed, settling in for the night.

Nolan put his head back in the chair, figuring he'd cat nap until the morning and then make a plan going forward in the morning. He'd have to explain so much to Marco and make arrangements for Amanda-

He opened his eyes at the quiet, hitched sounds of crying.

 _Oh, Amanda._

The man thought nothing of leaving the chair to approach her, climbing atop the bed and spooning up behind her over the covers.

"Amanda, Amanda, it's all right."

The girl rolled over and grasped at him, holding him close and cowering into his chest.

"Nolan, I want my dad." She cried. "I want to go home."

He stroked his hand up and down her back, knowing anything he said would be small comfort. Really, what could be said to reassure a girl who'd had her whole world torn away? Still, he had to try. "I know you do. I know. I'm sorry, your father is the one thing I can't give you now. It may be a long time but Amanda, I promise I'll bring him home. Please, believe me."

And here, with the ashes of the dead in the air and an impossible promise, Nolan would often look back on their first night as the birth of the monster that would become Emily Thorne.


	4. Chapter 4

Nolan held Amanda until she'd settled down and fallen asleep, but he knew she wouldn't find any true rest. How could she, with everything that had happened? Her father had been ripped away from her and Nolan was no fool - he would put everything he had into proving David an innocent man, but as of now he didn't even know where the man was being held. Footage of the arrest had been made public, reports of incriminating evidence that painted him as the mastermind behind the horror. The name David Clarke was on the lips of every talking head, the headline of every newscast.

This wouldn't be an uphill battle, this was climbing Mount Everest.

Still, as Nolan had lain beside Amanda and stared at the ceiling, he had found his resolve. Denise was right, as always. Clearing David could take years, and every effort to help him would have to be made in secret - the man was innocent, in his heart, Nolan knew this, but the name David Clarke was toxic. Synonymous with Americon Initiative. The cold, calculated deaths of hundreds of men, women and children.

Nolan had built a life for himself - a wonderful life beyond anything he could have dreamed. Being openly associated with David would destroy everything. Power. Prestige. Freedom. These were Nolan's drugs of choice and once tasted, he would not part from them. He would not return to being what he was before David Clarke, that frustrated, angry little _nothing_ of a man.

No.

No, he would fight for David but his fight would be done in secret. Not just to protect Nolan and NolCorp, there was Amanda to think of now. In all truth he didn't know what to do with her. He hadn't made any plans beyond getting her out of Millhouse and bringing her to his house.

 _Well, she's here. Now what?_

As far as Nolan knew, Amanda didn't have any family other than David. He didn't know about Amanda's mother because he had never asked - if the woman had died or stepped out of the family, Nolan hadn't wanted to bring up any painful memories. He had grown up with his own family troubles, even now he didn't much like to speak of early homelife in the Ross residence.

After pulling Amanda from Millhouse, he would be damned if he let her be placed back into the system. That she had been rushed into Millhouse at all was proof to him of something at work against the Clarkes.

Whatever happened, Amanda would be safest with him. Only him.

He wouldn't give her up.

She stirred in her sleep beside him, restless as he'd expected. He felt a great swell of pity for her. Amanda, whose world had been stolen, whose family name had been poisoned. She had been picked up and hidden away, cut off from any way to communicate to the outside world. How long would she have been trapped in that place if Nolan hadn't found her?

Amanda Clarke, the girl the world forgot.

* * *

Nolan must have slept, because when he next opened his eyes the plain guest room was bright with the sun coming in over the water.

Amanda was still asleep, curled into herself under the covers as best she could with Nolan sleeping atop them. He was careful in leaving the room, he didn't want to wake her. Let her sleep. He moved through the lower floor of the house and on into the kitchen, nearly jumping out of his skin when he found Marco at the counter making coffee.

"Marco!"

The man looked up, his eyes clear for the first time in weeks. Since 197 Marco had been in a state of horrible depression, only leaving their room for alcohol, screaming at Nolan when he needed a target for his raging grief. Nolan had taken the abuse, accepting it. His man was hurting so deeply, and Nolan didn't know how to help him with this other than waiting for Marco to snap out of it. Nolan was a genius by all rights, but he was no therapist.

"Good morning." Marco said, pouring two cups. He added Nolan's preferred amount of sugar and cream, then set it before the man on the counter.

"Hi, I...uh..."

Marco smiled at Nolan's confusion. "You were expecting someone else?"

"No, no." Nolan blinked and smiled. Seeing Marco up and about was a sight to behold after weeks of the darkness that had been hanging over him. "I just, it's been a long time since-"

"I know. I know." Marco sipped at his coffee, relishing the burn. "I haven't been myself since...I let myself drown in it, Nolan, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for how I've been these past weeks."

Nolan reached across the counter and took his hands. "Marco, no, baby, I know what this did to you."

"I don't want to be like this anymore, Nolan, I want our life back." Marco kissed Nolan's hands, a plea for forgiveness and love. "Nolan, I've been horrible to you, it hasn't been fair. I'm going to get help, talk to a grief counselor. I know I can't pull myself together alone, I-"

Nolan frowned as Marco cut himself off, and looked over his shoulder. Amanda was standing there, watching them.

Marco let go of Nolan's hands and took a step back, his face taking on a strange look that Nolan had never seen before.

Nolan cleared his throat, hoping this would go well. "I, uh...Marco, that's where I was last night. Do you remember Aman-"

"Amanda Clarke. Yes. I remember." Marco said woodenly. The man didn't say anything else, and he didn't even look at Nolan as he turned and retreated back to their room. Nolan swallowed, relieved Marco didn't say anything to Amanda, but now dreading the confrontation that awaited him.

"Ah, Amanda, why don't you take a walk on the beach? It's just through there. Find me some seashells. I'll be out to join you in a little bit."

Amanda did as Nolan advised and stepped out to his backyard, closing the door behind her. She wasn't an idiot, she knew that Marco had to be angry she was in the house - the way he'd looked at her, it was how the world saw her father now, as this horrible _thing_. No longer a person, David Clarke was now the direct cause of so much pain.

She wondered what Marco might have done if Nolan hadn't been there.

Amanda moved around the pool and closer to the edge to look out at the shore below. Nolan had made an interesting choice with buying this house - the view was wonderful, it could be seen through every one of the house's big windows, the house was so wonderfully full of light. The house itself left something to be desired, though. Everything inside felt somehow fake, like they were all staying at a hotel rather than a home and Amanda wondered why it felt that way.

Then again, hadn't Nolan said the house was a new purchase? With everything happening, maybe he just hadn't had any time to decorate it.

Well.

If Nolan was to be believed, they would be decorating that room where she would be staying. Amanda refused to think of the space as _her room_. Her room was in whatever home she'd shared with her father - be it in the Hamptons, California or Tokyo.

Home was with her father.

Anything else was just a place to sleep.

Amanda kicked a rock out of her way as she followed the footpath on down to the shore. Little seashells showed in the wet sand of the wave line but she ignored them as she set her shoes aside and rolled the ankles of her jeans. The wet sand was gritty against her skin as it squished in between her toes, the ground pulling beneath her with each wave that washed over her feet.

The breeze picked up and whipped her hair about her face. The sun shined down from between puffy grey clouds. Amanda wondered if it would rain later in the day. She wondered how far Nolan's house was from her father's house, if she could walk there and go inside, what it might look like now.

She doubted Nolan would take her there, but maybe if she asked him very nicely later in the day, maybe if she...

 _Don't._

Amanda passed logs of driftwood set into a big semi-circle, all of them bleached white by the sun. There was a blackened pit in the center of the circle with a few old beer bottles scattered around it. She looked back to Nolan's house. This beach firepit wasn't too far from it, did Nolan build this with his friends? Did he have many friends in the Hamptons?

A sinking feeling came over her. Nolan had opened his home to her but how many of his friends would react the same way that Marco had? She knew he didn't have much family, in fact he'd once told her that his friends _were_ his family. Would helping her cost him the few dear people in his life?

Amanda didn't want that for him. She wasn't worth the cost.

Seagulls cawed overhead, probably hoping she'd produce food for them. No luck there, she had nothing.

No food for the birds, no clothes other than what she was wearing, no money of her own, no power to help her father or her friend, no knowledge of where her father even was. Amanda paused in her walk, the complete helplessness of her situation weighing down on her. She had nothing. She could do nothing. She was nothing-

 _No!_

 _That's not true. I have Nolan._

The water broke over her feet and splashed up, wetting the lower legs of her jeans. She jumped away from the water and turned back. Nolan was further down the shore, heading toward her from the mouth of the footpath that she'd taken.

She started walking back toward him and they met near the fire pit.

Clearing his throat, Nolan tried to smile at her. "Amanda! Hey, did you find any seaglass for me?"

Amanda looked at him carefully. The left side of Nolan's face was red and his eyes were swollen, bloodshot, making the blue stand out inhumanly bright. He'd cleared his throat but his voice had been thick when he spoke. It was clear that something had upset the man, and Amanda had an idea of what it had been.

"Is everything all right?" A loaded question, given everything that had happened to them in the past month.

"Sure, everything's fine."

A too-quick answer. Amanda wasn't convinced. "Marco was angry to see me. It's because he believes the news about dad, isn't it?"

"No, no. Amanda." Nolan clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "Marco is...he's just going to stay with his family for a little while, that's all."

"Why?"

"He's just...not used to sharing space with a little girl." Nolan invented. Another harmless white lie, as Marco had grown up with another sister beside his twin, not to mention the three nieces he loved to the moon and back.

"I'm not a little girl!" Amanda huffed.

"Fine. A young lady, is that better?"

"No."

"A moody teen, then. Marco has gone off to visit his parents, which works out for us, we'll have the house to ourselves and we can figure out our next step."

"I want my dad back."

Such a simple thing she wanted. Such an impossible thing.

"I know you do. I'd bring him home today if I could, but you know I can't do that." Nolan took another deep breath and arrived at a decision. He and Amanda were united in this, however this came to its end. "You're right, you're not a little girl anymore so I won't sugarcoat things for you. There's no clean ending to this."

"I know."

"I give you my word that I'll do everything I can to help David, but this could take years. I don't believe he had anything to do with 197 but it's not me that has to be convinced of that. Denise told me that to help David I have to keep my connection to him a secret."

Amanda frowned. "You have to pretend not to know us?"

"Yes but Denise is still on our side in this. We can trust her. I do trust her. She was the one who knew where to find you."

"If she hadn't told you, I would still be there?"

"No! If she hadn't called me after I saw the news about your father, I would have called her to find out if she knew how I could find you, to make sure you were all right."

"I wasn't all right, Nolan! They came for dad just a few days after 197-"

"What?! Amanda, how long were you in that place?"

Nolan had thought that Amanda had only spent a day or two in Millhouse, but to learn it had been _weeks?_ He remembered he had spoken to David the day after 197, the arrest had to have happened right after. David hadn't answered his calls since then, and now Nolan knew why.

 _Oh, Amanda, how could I have let this happen to you?_

The girl crossed her arms, hunching further into the security of her hoodie. "I don't know. Long enough."

"I would have come for you if I'd known." Nolan said, the justification so pointless now.

"It's not your fault." Amanda meant it, too. Nothing that had happened to her was Nolan's fault, and she didn't want him to dwell on it, blaming himself.

"Still. I want to make up for it if I can. I meant what I told you. I know my house isn't home to you, but you can stay with me for as long as it takes until I can prove that David is innocent."

"Are you sure?"

"It's your choice. I can arrange something else for you if that's what you want but after what's happened, I want to keep you close." Nolan said, eyes on the horizon.

She was too young to be on her own. With his money it wouldn't be anything to place her with a carefully screened family, far away from all of this, but what he said was true. Amanda being taken to Millhouse without cause or notice was beyond suspicious - it spoke to something active, something sinister.

"If you're going to help dad, then I want to stay with you. When will we get to see him?"

Nolan bit the inside of his cheek at her eager question. "Denise said she would have a report for me later today. As soon as we know where David is, I'll see about arranging visitation."

Just the thought of seeing her father again sparked a calming hope inside the girl. The band of anxiety within her chest loosened slightly. Soon, she would see her father, hug him, be held by him, be wrapped up in the familiar warmth of _daddy_ , the one man who could make everything all right again. Even this.

"Thank you Nolan."

The man gave her a faint smile and stretched his arms up over his head, then out to each side, showing his wingspan. "Oh, man. It's been a long day already and it's not even noon yet!" He cracked his knuckles, making her cringe at the sound. "Amanda, since you're going to stay you're going to need a few things. Some clothes, some stuff for your room, maybe a toothbrush."

Amanda didn't argue. She didn't want anything but her father, though a shopping trip into town might be nice. Nolan had a talent for distracting her, he could make anything fun.

He waved her over, "Come on, kid, I'll buy you an ice cream."

"Any flavor?"

"For you, Amanda, every flavor."


	5. Chapter 5

"Anything you want, Amanda, money is no object. I'm kinda rollin' in it these days." Nolan boasted.

Amanda rolled her eyes at his joke. It would have been funnier if they weren't standing in the tampon aisle of the drug store.

She already held a hand basket containing a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, a hairbrush, soap, shampoo, conditioner, body lotion and a bit of makeup. This aisle held the last item on her list of essentials. "I think I can handle this part on my own, Nolan."

The man had the good sense to leave her to it, meeting her outside once she was done shopping.

Amanda had seemed all right at the ice cream store, happy enough with her cup of raspberry swirl. Nolan had fooled himself into thinking her mood would be lifted through the day, but the intrusion of the news on the shop TV had cut into the girl's happiness. Seeing the repeated footage of her father being arrested had doused her; immediately she had gone quiet and closed herself off, even pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head.

All at once, Amanda was lost to him.

Nolan had been quick to guide her down the street to pick up any toiletries she needed, trying to make her smile again but his every joke was falling flat. Still, the man had to try.

Amanda might not be in the mood to joke or even talk very much, but the hard fact remained that Nolan was intent to take care of her and she needed things if she was to stay in his house. So, toiletries purchased, they stashed the bags in his car and Nolan then took her to a clothing store, one of the overpriced boutiques nestled in amongst the restaurants and antique shops that appealed to the tourists.

On his off-time Nolan wasn't much of a dresser. When he made public appearances a stylist was on hand to dress him like an oversized doll - Nolan Ross, Captain of Industry; Nolan Ross, Tech Mogul; Nolan Ross, HQ frontman. He hardly recognized himself when he saw the magazines and footage, it was all such a laugh.

No, he couldn't dress himself very well, and he knew even less about how girls dressed but he thought to let Amanda have free reign. New clothes wouldn't be enough to pull her out of her despair but maybe giving her this, the control of what she would be wearing at the very least, would be a step in the right direction.

She had grown quiet since leaving his house, and even quieter since shopping for her toiletries at the drug store. He knew she had to be thinking of David but he'd hoped that the trip into town would have at least distracted her a little.

If anything she was just withdrawing further into herself the longer they went into the day.

Amanda looked through the racks with a sense of detached interest - there was no way to focus on shopping while her father was imprisoned. Nothing else mattered to her until she could see him again.

Nolan frowned as he watched her drift through the store.

At least she liked the ice cream, he thought. There were so many restaurants and cafes, maybe she would cheer up with some lunch. Then again, maybe his bringing her into town at all was too much, too soon. He wished the right answer would jump out at him. Should they have just stayed in the house?

No, no, Nolan couldn't have been in the house, not while Marco-

 _Stop. Not now._

Nolan shook the thought away and approached the woman on the sales floor before she could speak to Amanda, intrude into the teen's hateful mood.

"Hi, so my cousin over there," he gestured at Amanda, who now just seemed to be staring at the wall. "She just moved here, trouble at home. I thought to treat her to some new clothes but she's not feeling it. Is there any way that you could just throw together some things and send them up to the house?"

Nolan didn't bother to introduce himself or mention his address. In many ways the Hamptons were like a small town, with everyone knowing everyone else's business. Nolan might be new to the neighborhood but he was the hot topic on every tongue; the cagey tech millionaire and now, his moody teenage cousin.

The saleswoman gave Amanda a quick, appraising look. Her trained eyes took in the girl's height and approximate weight - a bit difficult to tell given the girl's hoodie and baggy jeans, but she hadn't reached her position without practice.

"Of course, sir. Jeans, tops, shoes?"

Nolan nodded. "Sure. Throw another hoodie in there, she likes those, and a bathing suit. A couple dresses wouldn't hurt, either. If she likes any of it, we'll be back when she's in more of a shopping mood."

He doubted Amanda would wear much outside of her usual fare anytime soon. Thinking on it, he hadn't seen her in anything other than jeans and dark hoodies in over a year. A woman would have been best able to explain that, like many girls her age, Amanda was insecure of her changing body and hiding herself in the clothes. Nolan, being largely ignorant, just thought she had no taste. Not that he was one to talk.

 _Fine, then. We'll be partners on the Hamptons' Worst Dressed List._ He couldn't help smiling at the thought.

Still, what did it matter what Amanda wore? She just needed things to wear, period.

Nolan cut the shopping trip short and took her to a cafe. Other than ordering a sandwich, Amanda didn't say much and to his credit, Nolan didn't push her to talk. He thought back on the difficult times he'd faced when he was younger; he would have fared better if he'd only had a friend, but he had been left to handle himself alone for most of his life.

He could be that friend for Amanda. In his bones, Nolan knew that he had to be. She was a vulnerable girl and there was something terrible out there at work against the Clarke family. He would protect her, be Amanda's guardian and friend. He wouldn't push her to talk, but he wouldn't let this darkness consume her either, not if he could help it.

Well.

He'd brought her to a safe place and provided for her. She had a home with him and he would do all he could to help her father. He looked over at the girl and saw she was eating. That was something, at least.

She followed him mutely back into his car on the short drive back to his house. He'd had the thought that Amanda might open up again once they were alone, but he was in for further disappointment.

"Amanda, do you want to go swimming in the pool? Or, we could walk the shore if you want." He suggested, thinking the fresh air and exercise might shake her out of the heavy hold this depression had on her.

She didn't say anything at first, just fingering the drawstring of her hoodie. Then, "I think...Nolan, I just want to lay down."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I just want to be alone." She wasn't meeting his eyes, just looking down at her feet.

He frowned slightly at her answer. "Oh, okay, sure. I'll let you know when your clothes deliver, then you can go through everything, see what you like."

"Thank you for today Nolan. And everything else."

"No thanks necessary." He reminded her. She could thank him with a smile, but he wouldn't push. The girl wanted her space, clearly.

"Still. Thank you." Amanda turned and retreated to the guest room, her room for however long it took until David could be proven innocent of this awful mess.

Leaving Amanda to her solitude, Nolan ascended the stairs and paused at the threshold to his and Marco's bedroom. He closed his eyes for five full seconds as he took a deep breath, steeling himself.

He stepped inside and looked over the space. Marco had taken his wallet and cell phone. His car had been gone from the driveway by the time Nolan and Amanda had left the house to shop in town.

He looked about, trying not to think of what was said and done that morning. Nolan knew he was right to have brought Amanda to his home, but he should have prepared Marco. He had just been so caught off guard to see Marco up and about in the morning after weeks of the man living like a ghost that he hadn't been able to say a word about Amanda before the girl had shown herself to Marco.

Nolan noted that Marco had taken his leather weekender bag and some clothes; jeans, t-shirts and his favorite black Chucks were gone. Marco hadn't packed for business, he'd taken his comfort clothes and gone off, either to their apartment in the city or to be with his family.

Wherever he was, Nolan hoped Marco would make contact soon. Even if only to let him know he was safe.

He huffed a breath and tried to put Marco from his mind; almost impossible, but Nolan had other troubles to attend to. Making a snap decision, he changed into his swim trunks and took a towel, heading down to the backyard.

Pressure was building in his temples, the stress of the past several weeks was making itself known. The horrified shock of 197, the anger and paranoia that came on learning it was all down to a bomb planted by Americon Initiative, the strain of putting on a false front of unity and courage for his fans and employees, the sorrow he felt for Marco, the rise of determination he'd shown for Amanda.

The heartbreak of Marco leaving.

Nolan speared his fingers through his hair, pulling at it. He tossed the towel and phone on a lounge chair and jumped straight into his pool. Swimming was a great aid in clearing his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the pool, he'd missed this, the freedom of weightlessness in the water, the pull in his muscles as he forced himself to swim lap after lap after lap.

It was a full hour of hard laps before Nolan stopped, climbing out of the pool and flopping his lanky self onto a lounge chair, allowing the sun to dry him.

The man had succeeded in clearing his mind, exhausting himself and resetting his sense of purpose.

 _I need to do this more often._

The sharp _chirp_ of his phone cut through the air. He was quick to answer on seeing who was calling.

"Hi Denise."

"Good afternoon sir."

He jumped straight to it, "Do you have anything for me about David? Amanda's been asking."

"I am sorry, but no sir. The investigation is still secured, Mr. Clarks's location is known only to the arresting officers at this time. I have not been able to ascertain who has been brought in as his legal counsel. Mr. Clarke's usual attorney has not yet returned my call."

"Well, they only just made his arrest public, I'm sure his usual lawyer is up to his neck in trying to help David."

"Very likely sir. How is the girl settling in?"

Nolan glanced back over his shoulder to the house. "Not great."

"Did Mr. Romero say something to upset her?"

"Denise, Marco left earlier today and...I don't know if he's coming back." Just speaking of his man undid the good of his long swim session. All at once, the memory of their argument, only hours ago now, rose in his mind.

"He loves you. He'll come back."

It was a simple reassurance, but what in this awful new world was simple anymore?

"The things he said. He was so angry. He even...he actually hit me." Nolan confided, brushing his fingertips over the left side of his face, where he'd been struck. It hadn't been a hard hit. Nolan had been punched before. He knew. No, Marco hadn't hit him hard enough to bruise, but the spot was still tender to the touch. Another day and the pain would fade, just another bad memory.

Denise stopped in what she was doing, absorbing this. It was a jarring thing to learn, a crack in the veneer of Mr. Ross's carefully polished life. It was a life that she had helped to shape; he had come so far since they had first met, opening himself to her both as a client and a friend.

The men were in love, it was clear as day for anyone to see. They brought out the best in each other, but after 197, this new world was bringing out everyone's worst side. Denise liked Marco very much, but Mr. Ross was her client and her primary concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Mr. Ross, was this the first time?"

"Yes, the first and only time." Nolan was confident in this, at least. He and Marco hardly ever even argued. Violence seemed a foreign thing, some distant memory that belonged to Nolan's old life. "Marco's not like that, he just...he lost himself when his sister died. His twin. She was on 197 and when he saw Amanda, he just...he snapped. But better that he snapped on me than on Amanda. She's been through so much already."

Nolan cleared his throat, moving on from discussing Marco. He feared if he went on, he might give in to the tears he could feel stinging at the corners of his eyes. "Denise, I talked to Amanda earlier today. She told me she was at Millhouse since right after 197."

There was a pregnant silence on the other end of the line. Then, "Mr. Ross, do you mean...?"

"Yes. Amanda said that David was arrested just a couple days after it happened. The news that he was involved - or, that someone is trying to make it look like he was involved, was only just made public last night. Please, Denise, you didn't know, did you?"

"...no sir. I found out about it at the same time you did. But it's my job to know these things well before you, sir. To seamlessly handle any and all issues that might affect you or NolCorp in any way. A lapse like this will not happen again."

It was true that her job was to protect him and his company from bad publicity, but this was an entirely different situation, worlds away from anything a reasonable person would expect to encounter. Nolan didn't want her to blame herself. "It's pointless to argue with you on this, isn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"Fine. When it comes to the legalese and PR, you're the best in the biz. But this time I need to talk to you like a friend. Help me figure out Amanda. Please, Denise. I feel like maybe she doesn't want to talk to me anymore because I'm not a girl."

"I'm not a girl, Mr. Ross."

"Fine, a woman!" Nolan huffed. "You know what I mean. Maybe she's having...you know, girl problems or something. Gross." He added as an afterthought.

On the other end of the line, Denise rolled her eyes. She respected the man as her client, but really, there were times when he was little better than a teen boy. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, thinking of the girl. "I truly hope you didn't say that to her."

"I barely got a chance to say anything to her! After Marco left I took her to get some clothes and things, then we went to lunch and when we came back she just wanted lay down in her room. She's barely said a word since this morning."

"Sir, you know what she wants most in this world and it's not a shopping trip."

"I know. I just thought it'd be good for her to get out a little bit, stretch her legs. Maybe it was too much, I don't know."

Over the line, Nolan could hear her rapid keystrokes. She was the only person he knew that could type faster than him. "The only thing you can give her at the moment is space. Still, make sure she eats and keep a close eye to make sure she doesn't start purging."

Nolan nearly dropped his phone. "What? This could make her have an eating disorder?"

"With what she's been through, it's safe to say that anything is possible. That girl is desperate to feel in control of something, in her desperation she might turn toward food or her own body in that way. Keep a close eye for signs of self-harm. I'll send you some links on the subject."

"Thank you." He said numbly.

Just the thought of Amanda hurting herself made him sick. He glanced back at the house and thought of her now, alone in her room. Was she in there cutting herself or forcing her fingers down her throat to vomit?

This was a terrible ordeal for her, Nolan knew, but could it get to that point?

 _No. No, I won't let it._

Again, for all his genius, Nolan was no therapist. He refused to allow the possibility of Amanda hurting herself. Surely, if he could just get Amanda what she wanted, then the girl would be happy again. Surely, that's all it would take.

He took a deep breath. He could do this, help David and protect Amanda. He could do it. He could do anything, he was Nolan Ross.

"My Advice? For now, give her space but let her know that you're there when she's ready to talk." Denise said reasonably. It was advice she'd give to anyone dealing with a difficult teenager - God knew this situation was unique, but Mr. Ross had positioned himself as the girl's guardian. He had volunteered for difficult and unique.

"You've been close to the family for years, but there's no guarantee that she'll open up to you right away. Please let her know that I'm pushing for her. Tell her she can talk to me about any gross girl problems." Denise was not looking forward to any such discussion, but better Amanda speak to her than Mr. Ross. "Regarding David Clarke, as soon as I know where to find him, I will inform you."

"Thank you Denise. Just a heads-up but I get the feeling I'll be calling you a lot while Amanda's staying here."

"Yes, I get that feeling too sir, but you know that I'm available to meet your every need. Amanda's too."


	6. Chapter 6

Amanda started at the sound of a splash outside her bedroom window. She rolled over and looked, watching as Nolan swam laps in the pool. The man cut through the water, back and forth. She loved to swim, but she didn't have a suit, and the idea of swimming held no real appeal. Nothing did, everything she found fun now just made her feel guilty. She knew Nolan had cut their shopping trip short because of her mood, but Amanda found she just didn't have it in her to pretend at being happy. How could she go shopping or swimming or even smile when her father was locked up somewhere, publicly accused of something so terrible?

Where was he? Did he know what had happened to her, that she had been placed in Millhouse, that Nolan had taken her into his home?

She started at the sound of the doorbell.

Amanda wavered a moment. Should she answer the door? She wasn't sure if Nolan would want her to, but she didn't think he would want her to interrupt his laps, either.

 _What could it hurt?_

Huffing, Amanda went to the door and found a familiar face on the other side of the threshold. She blinked, recalling the woman from the boutique Nolan had taken her to before lunch. She was petite and stylish with light brown hair and a smile too friendly to be wholly sincere.

Then again, this was a saleswoman trying to earn the business of a billionaire.

"Well, hello there!"

Amanda just looked back at her. "Hi."

"I'm Marie, you might remember me from Rosehill Boutique earlier today." The woman put her hand out for a shake, Amanda shook her hand with a weak grip, feeling swept away by the woman's cheer. "Mr. Ross requested that I put some things together for you, so I brought jeans, tops, some shoes, a bathing suit, and dresses - now, those were Mr. Ross's suggestion, Miss - I, oh, I'm sorry, is it Miss Ross as well?"

Amanda faltered at the question. The Clarke name had been dragged through the mud, shredded by the enraged mourning public. She glanced down at the box of clothing Marie had brought for her, to the Rosehill Boutique's decorative logo, a pink rose in full bloom encircled by golden thorns.

"I - no, it's Thorne." Amanda invented.

Marie didn't miss a beat. "All right, Miss Thorne, do you mind if I come in? I can help you go through everything. Mr. Ross said you could just send back what you didn't care for and build on what you liked."

Amanda didn't think Nolan would mind her answering the door but it didn't take a genius to know that now wasn't the right time to have a stranger in his house. "I, um, Nolan's in the pool right now so it wouldn't be a good time to have company."

"Oh, of course I completely understand." Marie reassured. "You go ahead and pick out what you like, just send back what you don't. Your cousin said the two of you might be back, we certainly hope to see you back in town."

"Thanks." Amanda immediately caught on. Leave it to Nolan to have such an idea. With their blonde hair it would be too easy to pretend a family relation. "I'll let my cousin know you brought this over."

"You're very welcome, Miss Thorne. Have a great day!"

Amanda let the front door swing shut behind the woman, and brought the box into the guest room. In truth she was grateful for the distraction. She opened it up and laid out the clothing inside. It was just as the woman had said: jeans, t-shirts, pretty tops, sandals, sneakers, a few sundresses, two bathing suits and, thankfully, a dark gray hoodie.

Checking outside to see Nolan was still swimming, Amanda tried on a few things and found that the saleswoman had a good eye for guessing sizes. She decided to keep it all, rather than return the two tops that were a bit too big. She glanced down the collar of her shirt at her unimpressive chest. She'd keep the tops in case she grew.

She'd always been a late bloomer, anyway.

There was a closet on the left side of her room, more spacious than any of the closets she'd had in the houses shared with her father. It was quick work to hang up the clothes and neatly set the shoes on the floor, lining them up by their toes.

So many things Nolan had bought for her, and she hadn't asked for any of it. He had taken her into his home and showered her with the gifts of friendship and safety.

Somehow, and Amanda couldn't understand why, his generosity only made her feel worse. The man thought nothing of giving her the world and Amanda had no way to pay him back or even to show her gratitude, save saying "thank you". Such small things, were words.

 _I promise I'll repay you for what you've done, Nolan. I will._

It was a promise Amanda would fight to keep. She loved Nolan and he loved her. He had promised to take care of her until her father was a free man again. In a flash, Amanda pictured how their life might be when this was all over, a bright too-perfect future where Nolan would come to live with David and Amanda in a new house far away from the Hamptons and Millhouse and that dark-haired woman. It would be wonderful. She pictured another beach house with three bedrooms, one for her, her father and for Nolan. From there, Amanda would be happy to have the two men in her life so close at hand. She and her father would cook together like they always did, practicing their music and fitness, while Nolan would teach her all about computers and machines, they could go for ice cream again and he'd take her shopping.

Yes. That life would be perfect.

Amanda looked at the new clothes he'd bought her again, at the dark gray hoodie that looked very much like his own. He'd been wearing it when he took her from Millhouse. Blonde hair and gray hoodies, they were a match.

 _When dad comes home, he'll have a gray hoodie too - we'll all look like a real family._

Overwhelmed, Amanda pulled the new hoodie closer around her and cried.

* * *

Nolan finished his swim and let the sun dry him. He thought on Denise's advice and went into the kitchen, putting together dinner. He didn't have children. None that he knew of, anyway. Hopefully one of his exes wouldn't show up with a kid, looking to cash in now that he had several billion dollars to his name.

The more he thought on it, Amanda had been the youngest person in his acquaintance for years. He'd met her when she was about seven or so, back when he was no one and half in love with David because the man had a way of making him feel important and special. Like he mattered.

Nolan knew David was not for him. Not in that way.

But David would always have a deep place in Nolan's heart, until the end of his days. It wasn't just repaying a debt; David was his family. Amanda was his family. Marco was his fami-

Nolan cut off that thought.

He couldn't think of his man. Not now, not when he was still so raw from what had happened. Raw and angry and hurt and impossibly torn.

Marco had made him choose. He had forced the choice: Marco or Amanda?

Nolan loved Marco, but Amanda was alone in the world save for him.

He'd had to choose, and he had chosen Amanda.

She was family.

And by now, she was probably hungry.

Nolan cleared his throat and blinked away the sting in his eyes. They had been home for hours, it would be dark soon. He didn't worry over what to make for their dinner, he'd looked after Amanda a handful of times over the years while David was busy; Amanda hated when he called it babysitting. There was even a brief time when Nolan had lived with the Clarkes and David had taken full advantage of a trustworthy live-in adult; while Nolan tucked Amanda in, David was free to indulge in an affair with another man's wife.

Nolan put a frozen lasagna in the oven and went upstairs to change his clothes while it baked.

An hour later and he'd plated a piece for Amanda and knocked softly on her door. "Amanda, are you awake? I made us some dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

He remembered what Denise had warned against, the possibility that Amanda might develop an eating disorder or start hurting herself or any number of terrible things that could happen if Nolan didn't properly look after her.

He wouldn't let that happen. No. He would buy her anything she wanted, he would make sure she ate and he would take care of her until David was free again.

"Is it all right if I come in?"

This was her room, her space, Nolan wouldn't be entering without her permission. Teenagers were very protective of their privacy - or at least, he had been at her age.

"I'll be out in a little while."

"All right, just don't be too long, ok? I made your favorite."

"Italian?"

"Lasagna. Don't let it get cold."

When Amanda came out, Nolan was waiting at the table. He'd already had a bite of his dinner. The man was hungry, he couldn't resist.

He looked up and saw her. Such sadness in her eyes. He could see she'd been crying. Her hair hung limply at her shoulders. All at once, Nolan hated the sight of her.

All the happiness, all the bright silliness had been pulled from this girl. His friend was empty.

Amanda didn't say anything, she just took her seat at the table and started on her dinner. She was eating, at least. He couldn't expect more than that.

After dinner, Amanda again excused herself, gently refusing Nolan's offer of movies or an after-dinner walk on the beach. The fresh air would be good for her, he'd said.

"I just want to lay down." She'd told him.

The man couldn't force her to stay out with him, so he let her go back to her room.

He needed to study those links Denise had sent. He wouldn't let anything else happen to Amanda.

Nolan would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

* * *

Nolan woke up at 3am to the annoying shriek of his phone. He demanded that Marco answer it before remembering that Marco had left, then groped around in the dark to answer it himself. He blinked painfully at the caller ID, but forced himself into alertness on seeing who it was.

"Denise?"

No greeting, she jumped straight into it. "Sir. My source within the Bureau provided me a location of where Mr. Clarke is being held."

"You're amazing!"

"I am inclined to agree, sir."

Nolan tossed the covers aside and paced the length of his room, growing excited by her news. "So where is he?"

Through the line he could hear her typing. "For now, he's being held in Lockhart Penitentiary. This location will be kept secret until a trial date is set, and depending on the outcome there he may be moved while preparing for an appeal."

He was already on his laptop, checking the location for Lockhart. It was upstate, isolated. Nolan narrowed his eyes to see that Lockhart actually wasn't more than ten miles north of Millhouse - what were the odds? Too slim to be a coincidence, Nolan knew.

"So what do we do?"

"You must wait." Denise cautioned him. It would complicate everything if Mr. Ross bolted upstate again. "I will contact his representative and see about arranging visitation for his daughter, and you if you should wish it."

Did Nolan want to see David and get some insight on just what the hell was going on? "Yes, I do, please. I've got to see him, let him know what's been happening here in the outside world."

Did David know that he'd been painted as the mastermind behind Americon Initiative's attack? Nolan knew the man - he wouldn't care about any of that, he would only care about Amanda. The sooner they could see him, the better.

"Yes sir. It can be arranged under an assumed name to prevent leaks."

"Good idea." Nolan nodded at that. "It shouldn't be anything to whip up a fake ID."

Denise nearly dropped her phone and had to take a moment to keep her temper. "I will pretend I didn't just hear you intending to falsify a government-issued ID."

"Oh, come on. It'll be fine, I've been doing it for years."

"Good God, man."

Nolan smiled at the exasperation in her voice. She was so much fun to tease. "Thank you for this. Please, put in for a visit as soon as you can. If they only allow one visit, then get it for Amanda. She needs her dad."

"Yes sir, I'll call you back once it's been arranged."

"Denise?"

"Sir?"

"Marry me."

"Tomorrow, sir."

"You've been telling me 'tomorrow' for the last three years!" Nolan complained as he flopped back onto his bed.

On the other end of the line, Denise smiled. The man was a lot of work, but he was adorable in his way. "All good things to those who wait, sir."

Nolan stretched back and closed his eyes as he pulled the covers back over his lap. It was still far too early for him to be up and about, he could sleep another few hours before getting his day started.

"Wise words from the wisest woman I know. Let me know as soon as they allow visitation for David, I'll have Amanda to him and hopefully get a handle on what's going on."

"You know I will, sir. Get some sleep for the both of us."

Denise didn't need to tell him twice, Nolan was already drifting off.


	7. Chapter 7

It was several weeks until a visit could be secured. Weeks of hushed conversations between Nolan and Denise; he'd said nothing to Amanda, the last thing he wanted was to get her hopes up only to have them fall in disappointment. Denise had pushed hard for visitation only to be denied each time, disappointments to them both. But now, finally, Denise had the secured guarantee from the warden - it had taken over a month, but Amanda was going to see her father again.

Not a moment too soon, in Nolan's opinion.

It wasn't that Amanda was any real trouble to him, and that in itself was the problem. Amanda was so quiet and when she did speak it was usually only a few words at a time. She never argued with Nolan or even voiced much of an opinion on anything other than food, and even then it was just to refuse mushrooms on their shared pizza. She spent most of her time alone in her room, always polite in her refusal to join Nolan on the beach, in the pool or out for a trip into town.

Nolan hadn't seen her smile in far too long - whoever Amanda was now, she was worlds away from the bright bubbly teen she had been before 197.

But this, seeing her father again, this could lift the darkness that had swarmed over her.

If seeing David again didn't lift her spirit, then Nolan didn't know what could.

* * *

It was early in the morning, dawn hadn't broken over the waves yet. Amanda would sleep all day if Nolan let her, but he'd made an effort to establish a routine for her meals and sleep schedule. One of the links Denise had sent him said that keeping to a schedule was important for Amanda's mental well-being; she hadn't seemed any happier for it but Nolan was doing his best. It was all he could do.

He knocked on her door, "Amanda, are you up?"

He could hear the muffled noise as she rolled over in bed and, he was sure, scowled at him for waking her up so early. "I'm awake, what's going on?"

"Can I come in or are you running around naked in there?"

Now, Amanda was scowling. "Ugh, I'll be out in a little while."

"All right, but hurry up. Meet me in the backyard, I have news."

Nolan poured himself a strong cup of coffee - he'd need the caffeine for the long drive upstate. It was chilly once he stepped out, but it would warm up later in the day. Maybe seeing David would boost Amanda's mood enough that she would actually walk the beach with him later, but who could say? Girls were emotional, unpredictable and while Amanda was a cut above the rest, she had been through a lot in the past month.

He turned around when he heard the door and greeted Amanda in her pajamas, the favored Ramones t-shirt he'd been looking for - _little thief!_ \- and a pair of loose lounge pants. She looked grumpy and sleep-rumpled, but curious. She knew that Nolan wouldn't have woken her up so early without a good reason.

He lifted his coffee cup to her in greeting, "Amanda. Listen to me, I have news. Denise has friends in high places, and through her connections she's found out where David is being held."

Her entire demeanor changed. All at once she was bright, alert, eager. "Where is he? Did you already talk to him? Can I call him?"

"I'll do you better than that. You and I are going on a little road trip upstate for a visit."

And there it was, Amanda's smile. What a pretty girl she was when she wasn't scowling or ignoring everyone. He'd almost forgotten what she looked like. "Nolan do you really mean that?"

"You know I wouldn't joke about this."

Amanda put her hands over her face, smiling through her tears. "Oh God, thank you Nolan!"

Surprising them both, Amanda reared up and hugged him tight. He almost spilled his coffee but put an arm around her to match her affectionate squeeze.

He dipped his head down, pressing his cheek to her temple to reassure her, "Everything's going to be all right, Amanda, you'll see. Now go run a brush through your hair and pick out a nice outfit. We hit the road as soon as you're ready."

Amanda broke from him and hustled back toward the house, "Ok, I will! Thank you so much Nolan!"

He smiled.

 _Maybe the old Amanda isn't so far gone after all._

* * *

The ride to Lockhart was long and it wasn't made any shorter by Amanda's fidgeting or question of "How much farther?" every twenty minutes. Still, Nolan couldn't complain when Amanda was actually talking to him. She was asking questions, laughing at his jokes, even making a few jokes of her own. She was excited, eager. The promise of seeing David had chased away the quiet misery that had hung over her for so long.

Nolan was glad to see it go. He never wanted to see her like that again and, because he knew David was an innocent man and the rest of the world would soon know it too, he never would. Yes. Amanda was back, and someday soon the charges against David would be dropped. That was all that mattered to him.

After the 8th "How much farther?", Nolan and Amanda stepped into the waiting area of Lockhart. Denise was already there waiting on their arrival.

Nolan smiled to see her, looking as sleek and deadly as ever. He did love his legal shark. If she weren't already married and his situation so complicated, Nolan would have long ago made a real proposal. The woman would eat him alive, of course, and he was sure he'd love every minute of it.

They'd had several conversations over the phone at all hours, and gone back and forth over e-mail, but they had not seen each other in person since the night Nolan rescued Amanda from Millhouse. "Denise, it's great to see you again." He greeted, shaking her hand.

Denise's grip was firm as she returned his handshake. "And you, Mr. Ross. Amanda. Sir, I need to speak with you."

Nolan got the hint and so did Amanda, so she went off to sit in one of the plastic chairs lining the wall and leaving them to talk. Denise glanced over her shoulder to make sure Amanda wasn't listening, then turned to Nolan. "Given the nature of Mr. Clarke's alleged crimes, they will only allow a twenty minute visit."

Nolan's brows show up, "Twenty minutes? That's it?"

"They started with ten. I fought for twenty." She told him. "It's twenty minutes to split between the two of you."

At that, Nolan shook his head. "No. Don't split the time. Give Amanda everything. I can talk with him another time."

"Yes sir."

* * *

A prison guard lead Amanda to the visitation area. There were several in Lockhart. Where she had expected her reunion to take place in the outdoor space, an area with a small green lawn, picnic tables and potted flowers to brighten people's mood and distract from the fact that a loved one was imprisoned; instead, Amanda was taken to a small room. Concrete floors, a barred corridor, a small metal table with two chairs facing each other. One of the florescent lights overhead was burnt out and the room was very cold. It reminded Amanda of Millhouse. She ignored the gooseflesh pebbling over her arms.

The guard had left her alone in the room and locked the door behind her - it was to prevent her father from using that door to get to the lobby and escape, she knew, but it still made her feel trapped. She wrung her hands, feeling so nervous and just...strange! The world had been flipped on its head, everything was insane. Nothing was right and now? Now, she was waiting to visit her father in prison!

Amanda didn't know what to feel. Everything inside of her was a mass of anger and fear and blame and nerves. She wanted to tear the prison down brick by brick and free her father, spirit him and Nolan away to somewhere in the world where the tragedy of 197 couldn't reach them, somewhere they could all be safe together.

Impossible, she knew. Amanda was all too aware of her powerlessness.

There was a loud _clank_ and the clinking of chains, some commotion at the end of the corridor that Amanda couldn't see. She could hear voices and several sets of footsteps coming closer and fought not to throw herself through the door when she heard the distinct murmur of her father's voice just on the other side.

Two guards stepped into the visitation room first, and then there he was: David Clarke. Her father was several pounds thinner with dark circles hanging under his eyes. He wore the orange jumpsuit of a prisoner, his identity nothing but the number printed on the fabric. He was cuffed at the wrists with a chain connecting down to the cuffs at his ankles.

"Daddy!"

Any semblance of being a mature young woman vanished the moment Amanda saw David. She was a girl again, and her daddy was the entire world.

She rushed to her father and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight, crying openly.

The guards stepped out to allow them their privacy.

David put his arms around her as best he could with the cuffs at his wrists. He did his best, looping his arms over her head and bending at the waist to return her embrace.

"Amanda, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Please, please come home!" She cried.

"I want to, baby, so much. God, I want to, but I can't. Not yet."

Amanda pulled back from David, but only just. "Why?" She demanded hotly. "You didn't do this! It wasn't you!"

"No, baby, it wasn't me." David took a step back and looked at his girl. At first glance Amanda looked all right. She was clean and looked well-fed and, if he wasn't mistaken, she had grown an inch or two which brought the top of her head to just under his chin. But there were other signs. The blue shadows under her eyes, the set of her jaw. He could read the stress in her, the missed sleep, the deepest frustration and anxiety. "God, sit down, please talk to me." David said, guiding her to the hard metal table and chairs at the center of the room. "I haven't seen you since that night, where did they take you?"

Amanda took her seat across from him and held his hands, hating the sight of those damn handcuffs at his wrists, the ugly orange folds of his prison uniform, hating the guard who was standing just outside the door, probably listening in on them. She hated everything but her father. "A place called Millhouse. No one would tell me where you were or let me make a phone call or anything!"

"Mandy, what happened there?"

Amanda looked at her father, the words welling up within her chest. She wanted to tell him, she knew she should tell someone. Looking at the man, at his weary eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders...she just couldn't. No, she couldn't tell him. Her father was so like Nolan, he would only blame himself if he knew. "It...they just kept telling me you were guilty and that I'd been raised by a bad man - I screamed at them that they were wrong but no one would listen to me!"

"Oh, Amanda..." David dipped his head and kissed her hands, tears spilling onto her skin, tears for whatever had happened to her that she wasn't telling him. David knew his daughter - she was holding back on something and he was powerless to help her. He hated everything in the world but for his daughter - the whole world could burn, and let the damn Graysons burn first and forever.

Something had happened to Amanda and it was all down to Victoria. David would strangle her if he ever got the chance.

"And then one day Nolan showed up-"

David raised his brows at the name. "Nolan? He's here? God, that man has to be my last friend."

"Yes, he brought me here. He's in the lobby. He's going to help you dad, he promised me." Amanda confided eagerly.

That Nolan had somehow found Amanda and taken her under his wing was a paramount relief. David had lost days screaming for his daughter from the dark cell he'd been assigned. He'd trusted Nolan with his daughter for years while he was a free man, he trusted him with her now even more. Nolan was loyal and had the money and the resources to protect her, no matter what it took. There were few things that David could trust in anymore, but he put his trust in Nolan Ross.

"You're staying with him?"

"Yes, Nolan has a new house in the Hamptons."

David absorbed this news, purely relieved to know his daughter was safe with their friend. "And he's taking care of you? Do you need anything?"

"No, I don't think so." Amanda shrugged. "Nolan already bought me clothes. How have you been? When can you get out?"

"Baby, I can't just get out. There's no bail. I have to stay here until a trial can happen and then, if they find me innocent, that's when I can come home to you."

"When!"

"The trial date hasn't been set yet-"

"No, I mean _when_ they find you innocent." Amanda clarified. Her father was innocent and he would be a free man again - she could allow for no other possibility. "Because they _will_ , because you _are."_

"I pray everyday that the world wakes up and realizes that, baby. I want to be home with you too. If- _when_ I get out, you and I are taking a nice long vacation. I'm thinking London and Venice and Tokyo." David said, trying to paint a picture of hope for her. And for himself.

"I love Tokyo." Amanda agreed. They had stayed there for a year while David did consulting work for Takeda Industries and Amanda had loved every minute of it. She could still recall some Japanese.

"I know you do. Those cherry blossoms and the sushi and the-"

One of the guards that had lead David into the room had just reentered. "Clarke, time's up."

"No, please, just another minute." David pleaded.

The guard looked from David to Amanda, whose eyes were already welling with tears. "Thirty seconds."

David turned back to her, squeezing her hands and speaking quickly, trying to maximize the last of their time. "Amanda, listen to me. Please, just behave for Nolan. Remember, what's the first rule of business?"

"Always make yourself an asset, never a burden." She recited. David had dropped many such pearls of wisdom over the years, that one in particular was actually a chapter title in one of the economic books he'd had published.

David leaned over the table and kissed the crown of her head. "That's my smart girl. My smart, wonderful baby girl. I-"

The guard returned, accompanied by the other. David didn't bother to plea for another minute, it was clear there would be no more time for them.

Amanda spoke through the clenching knot in her throat, the tears already burning her eyes. "I promise I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise I will daddy, I love you!"

"I love you too Amanda!" He called back to her as the guards forcibly guided him down the corridor, back to his cage.

The far door clanged shut, and Amanda was once again alone in the cold metal room.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Amanda, Denise and Nolan were allowed to watch their visit through a monitor in the guard station. They couldn't hear anything that was said, but they shared the same view as the guards; the monitoring was for safety and liability purposes. After the initial reunion, Nolan and Denise stepped away from the monitor. There was no reason for them to watch the entire visit.

"This is awful, having to leave him here. Did you see how thin he is already? And it's only been a few weeks." Nolan speared frustrated fingers through his hair, pulling at it. "I don't know what we'll do if...you know, something happens to him while he's in this place."

Denise nodded. "I understand your concern sir, but I can assure you that Mr. Clarke is under proper guard. The trial is too high stakes to allow any...unfortunate incident to take place while he's being held here."

He rounded on her, "Can you guarantee that? Denise, can you promise me that the warden, that these guards are above a bribe?"

"I...wish I could, sir."

"Whoever is really behind 197 might come after David, maybe stage a suicide or something to end the investigation. I don't know." Nolan sighed heavily, trying to drive out these thoughts. Paranoia and anxiety ate at him every day, dark thoughts were never far from him but Amanda was his touch of light. "At least today wasn't a total loss. Did you see how happy Amanda looked to see him?"

"Yes. They both looked happy. This visit will need to sustain her. They won't allow more than one twenty minute visit every month."

Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose, absorbing that. "Twenty minutes a month for a man to see his child...it's inhumane, Denise."

Denise nodded and wished that she was in a less professional position with him, so that she might speak more freely or offer the man some physical reassurance. To smooth her hand down his arm, to give him a hug. But Denise Walker was what she was: she was the on-call legal shark that Mr. Ross needed her to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I don't disagree, sir, and I will keep fighting to get more visitation but you know the enormity of this situation."

"How can I forget? The world has changed and not for the better. All those people died and the ones who lived are suffering. How did this happen, Denise?"

"Wicked people at play, sir." What else could she say? What could anyone say about where they all were now?

"This wasn't a game, this was people's lives!"

Denise made a calming gesture to him when a guard turned to look at them at Nolan's outburst. "I know, sir. I know. It's hit so close to home for you, but you're doing a wonderful thing, taking her in. You're all she has and that makes Amanda a very lucky girl."

Nolan hung his head, "Thank you. I'm doing my best with her but I just get so afraid sometimes. I'm sorry, Denise, it's just...all of this, you know?"

"I know." Denise looked up and saw Amanda being escorted back into the lobby. "Oh, Mr. Ross, their time's up."

Nolan straightened himself out and smiled as the girl came near. "Amanda, how was it?"

"He didn't do it, Nolan." She declared. So much strength in such a little girl.

"I know he didn't."

"I told him where I was, you know, _before."_

"Millhouse?"

"Don't say it." She snapped. A moment later Amanda went on, soft again. "Yes, I told him I was taken there, and now I'm with you."

"So he knows you're staying with me? That's good, at least he knows you're in good hands."

"He said you're his last friend."

Nolan's smile was genuine at that. "His last friend, huh? By default that makes me his best friend. Kind of a backhanded compliment! I wish you could have had more time with him Amanda, but Denise could only get us twenty minutes and one visit a month."

"That's all?"

Nolan squeezed her hand in apology. "We were lucky to get even that much. I'm sorry."

Amanda didn't want Nolan to apologize. He of all the men in the world had nothing to be sorry for. Here he had driven her across the state to see her father and was apologizing that he couldn't do it more often. His kindness and loyalty caused her such sweet pain.

"Don't be sorry, Nolan. You've been wonderful. Thank you so, so much for today. Seeing dad, even for so short a time it...thank you, Nolan." Amanda hugged him again, pulling him in close. "Where's Denise? I'd like to thank her too."

Nolan rubbed his hand up and down her back, stroking her to maintain this content calm. "Denise is...oh, she's over there. You go ahead and have your bonding moment, I'm going to pull the car around."

Nolan stepped away and Amanda approached Denise, taking in the sight of the woman. She was wearing a professional office dress, sleek to the curves of her body without being in the least bit vulgar. It was a pale dove gray that contrasted beautifully with her ebony skin and she wore black high heels with bright red soles. Denise stood near the corner of the waiting area, and it was in this woman that Amanda found the archetype of her future self, everything she would strive to be. Strong, stoic and deadly.

She cleared her throat, gaining the woman's attention. "Miss Denise?"

"Amanda, how was your visit?" Denise asked. She had only ever shared a few greetings with the girl. Being approached like this was different but Denise didn't mind. Mr. Ross had asked for help in dealing with her already - was this it, the day where Amanda would ask for her womanly advice?

"It was great. I hope Nolan will bring me back soon."

"He has the details of your next scheduled visitation appointment. I'm sure he won't let you miss it."

"Right. Thank you Miss Denise, for getting us more time. I...understand that everyone thinks my dad is guilty but he's not. Thank you for believing in him because almost no one else does."

 _Ah._

So Amanda only wanted to show her gratitude.

Denise nodded at the girl. "Amanda, you're welcome. Mr. Ross has been adamant on your father's innocence. I hope for your sake that he is but I...you know I'm not assigned to your father's defense. I can't help him."

The girl felt rebuffed by the woman's words. "No, I get it. I know you're here for Nolan, not my dad. I just...thank you for helping us."

Denise looked at her, taking the girl into her full attention. To be caught in the woman's deep golden eyes was unnerving. This woman was a great ebony dragon and God help anyone who stood against her. In her heart, in the deepest part of herself, Amanda recognized the power in this woman, born from years of studying and sacrifice, of struggling to be seen and accepted, of court battles and clawing every inch it took to reach the top of her profession.

Her will could be a beautiful or monstrous thing, depending on what it was Denise set her eyes on.

Neither woman could know this, but it was Denise who would plant the seed that would bloom Emily Thorne to the world.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a long drive for just twenty minutes, but the time had been so well spent. Nolan would have driven ten times the distance if it would have produced this same effect in Amanda. After seeing David, she was her true self again. It was as if this horrible upset in her life - Millhouse, David's arrest, 197 - had never happened. Amanda was the girl he knew again. Smiling, eager, silly.

It wouldn't last.

Nolan knew it couldn't, not while David was in Lockhart. Still. They knew where he was now and thanks to Denise, Amanda had something to look forward to. Twenty minutes, once a month. But in those twenty minutes, Amanda could be with her father and that's all she wanted in this world.

He glanced over at her. Amanda had opened the window on her side of the car and was surfing her hand against the wind as he drove them back to his house.

Amanda still refused to think of the Hamptons as "home".

Home was where her father was...though she would never think of Lockhart in that way. Her father was in a cage, even more helpless than she had been while being held as a "patient" in Millhouse. She buoyed herself with the inner mantra that this ordeal wouldn't be forever. In time, her father would be found innocent and set free; after that they would find a place to rebuild their lives. _Yes_. He would soon be found innocent. He would. He had to be. Yes he was still locked away from her but Amanda felt so much...lighter after having finally seen him.

Yes, lighter.

These weeks of constant stress and uncertainty had weighed so heavily on her - every thought had been consumed with wondering where her father was, if she would ever see him again and, the worst thoughts of all, if Nolan would tire of taking care of her and bring her back to Millhouse.

But now her questions had been answered and she allowed the hard grip of dread over her heart to loosen enough to where Amanda felt she could finally _breathe_. She knew where her father was now. She had seen him with her own eyes, heard his voice, taken in his scent, touched him, been held by him. She had been promised twenty minutes a month, only twenty minutes but each moment between them was golden.

Once they reached the house Amanda was determined to start on a letter, go into greater detail about this turn her life had taken. David would want to know the details of her staying with Nolan: the routine he had established for them, the food he served, what his house looked like, the places Nolan had taken her...or, tried to. Amanda frowned to herself. She hadn't been very receptive to Nolan's offers of going into town or walking the beach. She hadn't returned his friendship, she had shut him out.

That ended _now._

After finding her father, everything seemed brighter. Amanda wouldn't hide away crying in the guest room any longer. She wouldn't refuse Nolan when he invited her out to the pool or to play a round of video games - in fact she would invite him! Amanda thought of ways to thank him; she would offer to make dinner or bake him cookies, clean the whole house and wash his car. Small gestures were all she could offer the man for now, but she would make herself an asset to Nolan just as her father had advised.

She looked out over the water as Nolan took them on a long highway bridge, how the setting sun cast the waves orange and pink, so bright it stung her eyes.

 _Beautiful._

She glanced over to Nolan.

Maybe he would come to live with them after her father was set free. Certainly he would travel with them, Amanda would insist that he come. David had mentioned a vacation once he was released from prison - Nolan would probably love Tokyo even more than she did, and she knew he already loved to eat sushi. It would be perfect.

 _In time, everything will be perfect again._

Nolan looked over at her and winked. "Come on, Amanda. I know you wanted more time, but we were lucky that Denise was able to make this arrangement. Twenty minutes with your dad, once a month. It's not a lot but it's better than nothing, and I promise I won't let you miss an appointment - if there's even a hint of an opportunity for you to see David, I'll make sure you get it."

Amanda reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you Nolan. You've done so much for me-"

"Don't thank me, this is what you do for family."

"Still, I know it hasn't been easy."

Amanda was well aware of Nolan's position as CEO of NolCorp and the fame that had come with his genius, but she was more referring to his personal life. Since taking her from Millhouse Nolan had been homebound for weeks and Amanda could sense his restlessness; taking her into his care had to have upset the life he'd built for himself.

Nolan shrugged as he changed gears and made a familiar turn, bringing them to the final leg of the way back to the Hamptons. He didn't want Amanda to think she'd upset his life, he didn't want the girl feeling guilty. "It hasn't exactly been easy, Amanda, but it's been worth it. One hundred percent. Believe me, I wouldn't change things."

"Are you sure?"

Nolan scoffed at her, "Well I can't party like a rockstar anymore, not with a little girl in the house-"

"I'm not a little girl!" Amanda huffed.

"Please, you're just barely out of pigtails."

"Ugh, Nolan I never had pigtails."

Nolan smiled and thought of a picture he'd once seen at David's house. Little Amanda at perhaps two years old, bouncing and happy in little blonde pigtails. "Would you like to stake your net worth on that?" He challenged.

She shrugged, "I would if I knew what net worth was."

"Don't you worry, they'll cover that once you get to high school. Anyway, I mean it. Sure, a lot changed when I brought you to Casa de Ross, but I wouldn't have you anywhere else. I mean, my house has to beat Millhouse, right? The food's got to be better at least!"

Amanda frowned at the mention of that place. "I'd rather be on the streets than go back to Millhouse."

Nolan raised a brow at her words and was quick to change the subject. "Um, so, speaking of food, what do you say to some Chinese takeout? You know, to celebrate a good day. You got to see David again, I'd definitely call that a win."

Amanda shrugged beside him. "Chinese...sure, that sounds good. I've been craving egg rolls."

"Then egg rolls you shall have, my dear. I -oh."

Nolan had just pulled into his driveway and there was another car already in his usual place, a silver Lexus that Amanda didn't recognize. "Who's here?"

He parked next to the Lexus and cleared his throat. "It's Marco. Amanda, ah, just follow me, all right?"

Amanda sensed Nolan's tension but obeyed and didn't ask any questions. She followed behind him as he stepped into the house and went into the kitchen.

His movements were quick as he handed her the house phone and a menu he'd stuck to the fridge from the first time they'd ordered takeout at the new spot in town. She liked it, the egg rolls were crisp and the fortunes were funny.

"Amanda, here. Take the phone and my card, then, uh, go in your room and order up all your favorites. After that just wait for me, all right?"

The girl furrowed her brows at the change in him, for he was all at once so serious, but again she didn't argue. Her father's advice rang in her ears - she would behave for Nolan and make an asset of herself, not a burden.

"You got it." She said, keeping her tone upbeat. She took the phone, menu and card, then did as he asked, retreating to her room to make their dinner order. Egg rolls and broccoli beef for her, pork lo mein with crab puffs for Nolan, and they would share everything between them.

After the long drive to and from Lockhart, she was hungry enough to eat the whole menu on her own.

* * *

Nolan waited for Amanda to close her bedroom door before he moved to the stairs, a strange clawing in his heart with each step. He had immediately recognized Marco's car in the drive, of course, but the communication between the men had been minimal since the day Marco left.

Nolan didn't want to recall that morning, that awful morning, but it wasn't an incident that he could make himself forget. He'd tried, with no luck. Despite his efforts to put it from his mind, Marco was the first thing he reached for on waking in the mornings and the last thing he thought of each night - if Marco was healing his broken heart, if he and his family had done a memorial for poor Marisol, if Marco regretted what he'd said and done, if he could make peace with Nolan taking Amanda under his wing, if they could all move forward together in a semblance of family until David was finally free...

But that morning had changed everything.

Nolan had sent Amanda to the shore and confronted Marco in their bedroom, ready to explain everything, but Marco had been so deeply furious with him, he wouldn't hear any of it. With each step he took up the stairs, Nolan remembered another accusation Marco had made against him.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Had been Marco's first words to him after Nolan had followed him up to their bedroom that day.

"Last night I took her from that nuthouse upstate."

"Why?"

"Because something's going on." Nolan had insisted. "Something big. I think someone was trying to keep Amanda quiet by having her committed."

"You know that's not what I was asking." Marco had sneered, his eyes wet with furious tears. "David Clarke, that man, what he did...and you brought his daughter _here."_

"Marco, I don't believe that David had anything to do with that bomb-"

"I don't care! Get rid of her!"

On this, Nolan stood his ground. "No."

"What?"

"You heard me. She doesn't have anywhere else to go, I'm not sending her away." Nolan's tone turned pleading, he had to make Marco understand. "You know what David has meant to me. He's been more than a friend, he's done more for me than even my own father. I'd still be nothing without him."

"Better to be nothing than have anything to do with that monster's blood money." Marco spat, advancing on him.

Still Nolan held his ground. "David is not a monster-"

"He killed my sister!" And then Marco had lashed out, striking Nolan on the left side of his face.

The regret was instant in Marco's eyes. The fury gone, replaced with horror. "Oh, God, Nolan! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it-"

"Get out of my house!"

Nolan had turned from him then, to go find Amanda on the beach. Putting distance between the men was the best thing - had Nolan stayed in the room he might've lost his own temper and hit Marco back. At the time, he'd been furious with Marco for his demands and stunned that his lover had turned violent. They had rarely argued and never had their disagreements turned physical. In hindsight, perhaps Nolan shouldn't have put Marco from his house. Marco had been immediately apologetic after striking him, and as he'd been lucid that morning, he might've been willing to listen to Nolan's reasoning behind taking in Amanda once he'd calmed his temper.

There was no point in pursuing _what if_ or _if only_.

Marco had crossed the line in striking Nolan, there was no escaping that.

There had only been the most sterile of texts between them since that day, but now they were about to see each other for the first time in weeks.

Nolan stepped over the threshold and saw him. Marco's back was to him, he was putting the clothes he'd left in their closet into a small duffel.

"You're back."

"No, I'm not back. I just came to get the rest of my things." Marco said, zipping his bag.

He sighed heavily and finally turned to look at his man. The sight of Nolan before him after so long a separation was truly painful. His bright blue eyes were so full of hope and longing, the silent plea that what they had wasn't lost. He had changed. His hair had grown longer than he usually wore it and he was noticeably thinner as well. The stress and grief following 197 had taken its toll on them all. Taking care of Marco in his depression for weeks and then several weeks more of looking after Amanda hadn't left much time for Nolan to tend to himself.

Still, to Marco, Nolan had always been beautiful, inside and out.

Which is why leaving him now would be that much more painful - Marco knew down to his bones that he would never find another man like Nolan Ross.

"Nolan, I love you. You know that the only person I've loved more than you died with 197. I know what he means to you and I know you don't want to believe it, but this is all down to David Clarke."

"You don't know that."

Marco had to scoff at that. "Turn on the news, they're finding new evidence against him every day. He did it, Nolan. He killed my sister and you brought his daughter here without even thinking of me."

"Amanda is not her father." Nolan asserted.

Marco nodded at that, his heart growing heavier. "I know she's not. I know it. She's just a kid and innocent in all this. She's as innocent as Marisol was, but it doesn't change anything. That morning I saw her and all I could see was _him_ and Nolan, if you hadn't been standing there, I don't know what I might've done to her. Nolan, please, don't you understand?" Marco pleaded, his voice breaking. "I can't come back, not while Amanda's here. She's not safe from me."

Tears slipped down Nolan's cheeks at Marco's horrible admission. Who was this monster wearing his lover's face? Nolan was standing before a stranger and it was absolutely killing him. "Oh, God. Marco."

"You know you won't be safe if the secret gets out, who she is. People want David Clarke's head, but they'll come after yours if they find out you're keeping his daughter. That girl could be the death of you and you know it."

Nolan shook his head, and reached for him, "If you leave it _will_ be the death of me. Please don't go."

"I'm sorry Nolan. Since 197, since Marisol...I haven't been right, you know I haven't." It galled Marco to admit this, how he had lost himself to grief. He had to make Nolan understand that leaving was the last thing he wanted to do but in this, it was the only thing he could do. "I can't get right if I'm sharing space with her. Your loyalty...it's one of the reasons I love you. But your loyalty to Clarke, that you took it this far-"

"Marco, she needed me-"

"I needed you!" Marco snapped, bitterness in his every word. "I needed you, but you didn't give me a thought before bringing her here. You made your choice, Nolan, and I've made mine."

Nolan could actually _feel_ it, the quiet, tearing _crack_ of his heart breaking, the hot tears coursing down his face. He approached Marco, touching his chest, clutching at his shirt. He was beyond dignity, he would beg, plead, scream if he thought he could change Marco's mind. "Marco, please don't leave me, I need you, please don't go."

"I have to. If I stay...I don't know what I might do." Marco took hold of Nolan's hands and kissed them. God he loved Nolan but all it had taken was one horrible morning for the world to change and for them to hurt each other. "I hit you, Nolan. Something I never thought I'd ever do. I lost weeks to drinking and being so angry I've been sick from it, now with her here...I have to go, Nolan. Please, please, you have to let me go."

Marco kissed him then, a soft, painful kiss that tasted of mingled tears and regret deeper than all the oceans.

It was over.

* * *

From the hallway, Amanda hadn't heard everything spoken between the men, but she'd heard more than enough. She quickly padded back down the stairs to return to her room. She grabbed a pillow and muffled her scream of frustration and the sobs that followed. While she had been shutting out the world, morose over the separation from her father, Nolan had been suffering for weeks as he'd done all he could to care for her. Smiling through his sadness, that was Nolan.

How damn selfish she'd been.

How unfair was this, that Marco had lost his sister on flight 197 and now, the men were forced to lose each other?

Amanda tightened her grip on the pillow in anger.

How many more people had to suffer over this filthy lie?

Nolan didn't deserve to be forced into choosing between her and Marco - he should be with the man he loved, not some girl he felt obligated to take care of thanks to his overbearing sense of loyalty.

 _You won't have to choose, Nolan. I can make the choice for you._

Amanda looked up at the sound of the front door opening and dashed out to the foyer.

Marco had just settled in behind the wheel and started the engine when Amanda ran up to his car and slapped her hands on the hood.

Startled, he killed the engine and stepped out of the car, unsure what this was about. He barely knew Amanda, having only met her in passing a few times and not giving her more thought than that over the past several years that he'd been with Nolan.

Now, though...

"Amanda, what are you doing?"

The girl came closer and Marco clenched his fists.

That same hot, sharp spike of fury he'd felt when he first saw her returned in an instant. For a mad moment he had the thought to pounce on the girl and choke the life out of her, kill her as mercilessly as that bastard David Clarke had killed Marisol. Eye for an eye, David Clarke's daughter for Marco's twin.

Amanda noticed the tension in his posture and nearly turned back to run into the house, to Nolan, but something inside of her, some mad spark of courage, kept her in the driveway with him. She had to speak with Marco. She had to _try._

"Marco, please don't leave him, Nolan loves you so much."

Marco sighed, looking away for a moment, then back to her. "I have to."

"You don't! You're only leaving because of me. I can leave, then you and Nolan can-"

"Amanda, stop." Marco shook his head, cutting her off. What she was suggesting was far too tempting.

The selfish side of him leapt at the prospect to get rid of her and repair things with Nolan, to lead the life they were supposed to share before this little interloper came and ruined them. In time he and Nolan could rebuild; in time, it could be as if their fight, as if Amanda, had never even happened.

To be with Nolan, for them to move on together...oh, it was a dream. A dream that wouldn't happen, because it could only happen if Amanda was gone and Nolan would never allow it. There was no doubt that Marco was loved, but Nolan's sense of loyalty to Amanda was insurmountable. Underneath the rage and sorrow Marco felt, there was a true fear for Nolan. His loyalty was blinding him to the threat that Amanda could become.

The Clarkes were dangerous people and it wouldn't be long before this little girl grew up into a dangerous woman. God only knows what David had exposed Amanda to, what she could have been trained to do.

Marco looked hard at this girl standing before him. She was an awkward, gangly thing now, but she wouldn't be for long. She would fill out, grow up, and inevitably learn how to use her charms to her advantage just like every other woman - but unlike every other woman, she would have the insight into Nolan that she would need to manipulate him into doing whatever she - whatever David - wanted.

And where would that leave Nolan, but broken-hearted, framed or killed in the end?

Marco couldn't stand it.

He couldn't stand the sight of Amanda and despite how dangerous she may prove to be, he knew Nolan would choose her. Again and again, Nolan would choose Amanda. Because Amanda was alone, just as Nolan had been for so long. Amanda had no one, not even her father. She wasn't to blame for 197.

She wasn't her father.

In that, Nolan was right.

"Amanda, please. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault." It was acid on his tongue to reassure her, but as Amanda was not her father, it was possible that she wasn't beyond all reach.

"Marco, my dad didn't do it, please, Nolan said he could help to prove it, he just needs more time-"

"Amanda, enough." Marco swallowed. "It's not about the case. It's about us. I can't be with him anymore."

"But Nolan loves you!"

"I know he does. And I love him, more than anything. I just can't..." Marco thought of something, then, a way to gain a promise from her. David Clarke was a monster but if there was any humanity in Amanda then her word might be worth something.

"Amanda, I need you to promise that you'll take care of him for me, can you do that?"

"I will." She declared. There was no hesitation in her words. Amanda meant it. She couldn't bring the men back together, so she would do everything she could to care for Nolan. She would be the friend to him that he had always been to her. "I promise I will."

Marco narrowed his eyes at her, then nodded. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

The man said nothing more. He turned away and got into his car, the headlights blindingly bright for a moment once he started the engine and backed out of the driveway. Amanda stood there, watching as his taillights faded down the street, until he turned a corner and disappeared from sight.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Nolan? Nolan, I set the food out for us."

Nolan pulled himself from his thoughts, blinking away the tears still burning in his eyes. Right. Yes. Dinner for Amanda. He'd had her order in from that new Chinese place they liked. Their order had come, but he hadn't heard the doorbell...or he'd heard the noise but hadn't been able to process it. He hadn't been able to process anything for the past several minutes; nothing but the breathtaking pain of raw heartbreak. He'd nearly forgotten how terrible it was, but Marco's leaving had more than reminded him.

Truly, Nolan had believed that he and Marco would reconcile. Yes they had fought over Nolan's having brought Amanda into his care, and it had been awful, that clash of tempers. Nolan was ever a forgiving man. Marco was as well. Nolan had forgiven Marco's lashing out at him, striking him. In his foolish, sweet way, he'd assumed that in time Marco would forgive Nolan's unyielding stance where Amanda was concerned, and, in time, Marco might begin to care for the girl as well and, as impossible as it seemed, perhaps he'd begin to see the truth of David's innocence.

Now, Nolan knew better.

Marco's loss eclipsed any doubt of David's guilt.

Marco loved him, but he couldn't move past Nolan's protection of Amanda. Not when he believed David Clarke to be behind Flight 197. In Marco's heart, he believed his twin's blood was on David's hands and he couldn't trust himself not to hurt the man's child. What an awful thing, to become dangerous in a way he'd never thought himself capable. Marco needed help; therapy in coping with his depression, his anger and grief. He could not find solace with his lover, he had to find help for himself, away from Nolan.

Americon Initiative had broken them.

It was over.

Nolan swiped at the tears that had coursed down his face.

 _Reboot._ He silently urged himself. _Get up_. _Get it together._

He could cry for Marco after he'd taken care of the girl. Now was not the time. Amanda needed him. He had to rally for her. It was all for her.

With effort, Nolan pulled himself up from where he'd sunk to his knees near their - _his,_ now...just his - bed after Marco had gone. "I'll be right out." He called to her, and hurriedly cleared his throat. It wouldn't do for her to hear the grief in his voice.

 _Today is a happy day for one of us, that's enough for now._

The man had reunited a father and daughter. He couldn't let Marco's leaving ruin this, the only bright spot in Amanda's life since 197. She deserved better.

He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to refresh himself into a functioning adult. He was a grown man, brokenhearted, yes, but he had taken it onto himself to care for Amanda which meant that her needs had to come first.

Nolan took a deep breath. He could do this, shelve his feelings and pretend at being happy. He had some practice, it was just diving back into an old habit.

He came downstairs and was surprised to see that Amanda had already set the table, laying out all the takeout containers with serving utensils, plates, the regular silverware, chopsticks and she'd even neatly folded the napkins and overlapped them in the middle of the table to resemble a large daisy. A pretty extra detail, that.

She smiled at him, clearly waiting for him to say something.

"Oh, wow! The table looks great Amanda, thank you. This is really nice."

She bloomed under the compliment and Nolan could be happy for her, even while he was devastated for himself. He sat down but before he could so much as lift a fork, Amanda set a full plate before him.

"Here you are, Nolan. Can I get you anything else?"

Nolan raised a brow to see she'd served him his lo mein and crab puffs, along with two egg rolls and a helping of her beef broccoli with fried rice and a dollop of sweet and sour sauce on top. "I don't think so Amanda, you've loaded up all my favorites here, and then some."

Amanda loaded her own plate then and moved to take her chair. She lifted her glass toward him, "Cheers?"

Nolan nodded and raised his own glass. "To David."

"To dad."

They clinked their cups, a small salute.

"Cheers."

Nolan took a sip and winced, for his drink was almost pure vodka. "Agh!"

"Do you like it?" Amanda asked hopefully.

Nolan cleared his throat against the burn of the alcohol. If Amanda was intent to play bartender, he'd need to get her a cocktail book. A full cup of vodka with a splash of club soda and a wedge of lime didn't pair well with Chinese food, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Ah, sure. It's really...refreshing! Wait, uh, what're you drinking?" He asked, eyeing her own cup.

"Relax, mine is just Sprite."

"Good. Don't think I'll let you take this celebration that far." He warned her teasingly.

Amanda shook her head and took up her fork, ready to eat. "I know you wouldn't, and I won't drink from your bar, I promise."

"Good, no point in growing up too fast." Nolan glanced at her smaller plate. "What did you get?"

"Beef broccoli and a crab puff."

"No egg roll for you? Thought you had a craving." He said, thinking of what she'd said in the car.

"I was going to have one of those next."

Nolan dug into his plate, grateful for the distraction that Amanda was providing him. Light conversation. Mindless eating. He could do this. He wouldn't think about Marco, torture himself in reliving the man's leaving. He wanted to exist in the moment, enjoy the girl's company and their dinner. "This is really good. Nothing like Chinese food, it's perfect any time of day."

"Dad says the same thing about pizza." Amanda smiled, and thought of something. "Nolan, can I go to the beach house?"

He was surprised by the request. In everything that had happened, he hadn't given their house even half a thought. "Why?"

"Well, all our stuff would still be there, wouldn't it?"

"I...I don't know. I guess it might be, but I've never thought to ask." He shrugged. "Tell you what, I'll call Denise in the morning and see if there's anything that wasn't taken into evidence and if we can get into the house. If we can, then sure, I'll help you ransack the place."

"What do you think will happen to our house?"

"I don't know. Again, I haven't given it much thought." Nolan wasn't well-versed in the standards of how the property of alleged home-grown terrorists was handled by the police. "Denise should be able to find out, she's the best at what she does. We'll have an answer tomorrow morning."

Amanda seemed satisfied with that answer.

* * *

After dinner, Amanda refused to let him touch anything, insisting that she clear the table.

Nolan didn't argue with that.

He sat on one of the barstools at the counter and watched as she bustled back and forth from the kitchen to the table, clearing the plates and takeout containers, putting away the leftover food in the refrigerator, loading up the dishwasher. "This is very domestic of you." He said idly.

Amanda looked up from rinsing a plate and shrugged. "I just want to help. It hasn't been fair to let you do everything."

Nolan raised a brow. "I never minded, if that's what you think. But thank you for cleaning up, I appreciate it."

Amanda smiled and finished up in the kitchen. She came around to the bar and hugged Nolan in close, surprising him with a kiss to his cheek. "Nolan, thank you so much for getting me in to see dad. Twenty minutes wasn't enough time, so now that I know where he is I'm going to start on writing him a letter."

"That's a great idea, Amanda." Nolan told her, squeezing her hand. "Soon as you finish it, just let me know and I'll make sure it gets to him."

"I will. Thank you again, Nolan. Good night."

Nolan glanced at the clock. How was it already past nine?

 _Time flies when your whole world is ending,_ he thought in a flash of secret bitterness.

Still, he smiled for her.

"Thanks for cleaning up, good night." He returned absently as Amanda went off to her room.

As soon as he heard the door close, Nolan mounted the stairs and went into his room, thinking to just change his clothes and get ready for bed. He couldn't do what he wanted to do, rage at the world and drink the whole bar. In crossing the room Nolan looked at the bed and scowled, _hating_ the sight of it. Marco had spent weeks drunk and depressed in that bed and Nolan had spent weeks sleeping there alone, each night colored with the hope of Marco's return.

Now Nolan knew it wouldn't happen.

Marco had made his choice and Nolan had made his.

His bed would stand empty.

Nolan bit his fist to muffle his angry scream. God, it was so unfair! He wanted to set the bed on fire and punch through the wall, or better yet fight this shapeless enemy that called itself Americon Initiative, this hateful thing that had ruined so many lives with one great, cruel act that had changed the entire world.

 _It's not fair! It's not fair! You've ruined my life, you ruined everything - I'll kill you!_

Raging, impotent thoughts chasing through his mind.

Nolan paced up and down the length of his room, punching his open palm, frustrated and furious at his own helplessness in all this and _that_ , more than anything, was what was driving him insane. Marisol was dead, and Nolan was helpless to bring her back. Marco had ended them, and Nolan was helpless to change the other man's mind. David was being blamed for the horror, and Nolan couldn't free his friend or even guarantee his safety while in prison.

After years of enjoying the freedom and power of control, Nolan found himself helpless in every aspect of his life and it made him _furious_.

Nolan took a few deep breaths and speared his fingers through his hair. He couldn't be in this room, trapped in with his anger and that lonely bed.

He needed air.

Nolan bounded down the steps and went out onto the patio, gulping in the hot sea air and immediately feeling a shade or two more calm than he had in the house.

He paced up and down the length of the backyard and circled the pool several times, looking out to his view over the ocean and then up at the stars, where, he knew, a NolCorp satellite was stationed tens of thousands of feet above his anxious head.

Nolan rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. The thought he'd had earlier of his world ending wasn't too far off. His lover had left him, his mentor was imprisoned, his employees were afraid to return to work, the city was in mourning and the entire nation was enraged.

He went on pacing, thoughts chasing each other through his mind.

 _Everything is such a mess...I can't let things stay this way. I won't._

Nolan stopped.

He felt it again, that same resolve that had risen in him the night he'd learned of David's arrest.

He was largely helpless at the moment, true. His hands were tied. He was heartbroken, devastated. There were but few options open to him.

Nolan had been wrong.

He was not entirely powerless in this. He was only powerless if he gave up, let himself sink into despair. He was a genius, wasn't he? There had to be a way out of this, and he would find it. For David, for Amanda, he had to.

"Nolan?"

He whipped around, startled. Amanda was standing in the doorway. "What're you doing?"

He shrugged, hoping he had pulled off the carefree gesture. He was so tense from stifled emotion, but he had to appear stable for Amanda especially now that she'd seen her father and seemed so happy. "I was...just looking at the stars. I'm thinking of getting a telescope. It'd be fun, don't you think?"

A lame excuse, but what did it matter? The girl latched on to the idea.

Amanda came out and stood beside him, looking up at the sky. It was a clear night and they could see many stars along with the waning moon reflecting off the ocean and the pool before them. "It's really nice out tonight. A telescope would be fun. We could get a book about constellations to go with it."

"Yeah, plus we can spy on the neighbors."

"Oh, Nolan!" Amanda swatted his arm.

"Just a joke...mostly." Nolan smiled and nudged her with his elbow. "I have weird hobbies."

"You're weird yourself!"

"So we're weird together. Did you write your letter to David?" He asked her.

"Yes. Can we go to town in the morning so I can mail it?"

"Of course. Anything you want." Nolan took a breath and thought of the hellish night awaiting him, of trying to sleep in that lonely bed knowing that Marco would never share it again. Maybe if he had a nice day to look forward to tomorrow, he could get through the night. "We'll hit the post office, grab a coffee, do some shopping...you got to see David again, that's worth celebrating a little more."

"Ok, I'm in."

"You deserve a little fun."

Amanda gave him a small smile. "So do you. I'm going to turn in for the night. Good night again, Nolan."

"Good night Amanda."

That night, Nolan slept on the living room couch, unable to bear his empty bed, but he promised himself his first night on the couch would be his last. Amanda had a letter to mail, and he'd promised her a day out to continue celebrating her reunion with David, and then there was the small matter of visiting the Clarke beach cottage.

His broken heart could be dealt with later.

There was work to do.

* * *

In the end, it was simple.

The house had been processed and would stand as part of David Clarke's frozen assets until otherwise dictated. The house wasn't being guarded in any way, so Nolan decided to take Amanda first thing in the morning. He wasn't naive, he knew there was a true risk in bringing her there. If anyone recognized Amanda, they could be attacked. This would have to be a quick trip, in and out. It was his hope that they could visit the house and leave without anyone the wiser. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with Amanda caught in the middle.

Nolan drove to the Clarke house, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia. The route there hadn't changed, but the scenery had. As more houses - _castles_ \- had been built, so too had the surrounding security. It only made sense. That's how the authorities had made it into the neighborhood but no one looking to trash the house had.

Where he'd worried to find the house vandalized with spray paint or fire damage, the house itself looked the same way he remembered it. Quaint, cozy, and overshadowed by Grayson manor, the monstrosity next door. _The difference between a house and a home_ , Nolan supposed. He parked the car and Amanda got out.

Amanda stood before the house, just looking at it. A strange thing, to feel both a sense of comfort and dread at the sight of her home. This was just the latest in a series of homes she'd shared with her father, indeed he'd brought her to live in a few different places but this house was one of her favorites. It was more intimate than their London apartment, less secluded than David's Mexican villa. Amanda had loved this house from the outset, feeding seagulls and splashing about on the shore the first day.

Nearly every day spent in this house had been peaceful, save for a few odd things Amanda had noticed of late and then...that night, her final night in this house...

Amanda had been watching the news while David had been cleaning up after their dinner. The news ran and reran that same awful footage of flight 197, the explosion that crippled the plane, how it dipped from the sky and dove into the center of the city, the fire and debris killing over two hundred people, critically injuring hundreds more. News pundits, politicians and social commentators all had something to say. Riots were breaking out all over the country as people began to turn on each other as the unity of mourning became suspicion, paranoia and hatred exposed.

It was just as Americon Initiative wanted it.

There had been no further attacks, and only three coded warnings from the mysterious organization that had claimed credit for the horrific event.

The power had been cut, plunging the house into darkness a moment before it was stormed by agents in full SWAT gear, weapons drawn, shouting orders. Amanda had barely had the presence of mind to comply by putting her hands up and following the arresting agent's instructions as she was quickly frisked, handcuffed and guided outside the house, into a car and then taken to Millhouse, her questions unheard, her demands ignored, her voice drowned out by endless assertions of her father's guilt.

Thinking back, Amanda was ashamed of how compliant she'd been. She hadn't fought back against the agents, she'd been in a state of near shock; she had only started to ask questions after the car she'd been placed in had sped away from the flashing red and blue lights surrounding her home, speeding away from her father, and even then she had been naive and believed the agents when they'd reassured her she was being brought to a safe place and that she would see her father again soon.

Amanda blinked away the memory of that night, and tried to shed the memories of Millhouse without a bit of luck.

Those memories would be with her forever.

"Home sweet home, Mandy." Nolan said as he came around the car to stand at her side. Nolan hadn't been back to this house since he'd lived in the downstairs guestroom, making the ideas he'd first explained to David become a reality. He'd loved living with the little family but it wasn't wholly appropriate; Nolan had left soon after establishing his company in a small office suite. Within five years NolCorp had overtaken the entire building and now had three satellite offices worldwide.

Still, Nolan remembered where he came from.

Amanda shook her head. "It isn't home without dad. Maybe it will be when he gets out, but we won't want to live here when that happens."

Nolan wasn't sure what to say about that. Amanda moved forward, climbing the steps onto the wraparound porch and leading Nolan to the doubledoors that faced the shore. Amanda passed the porch swing and went to the railing. "Nolan, look."

He narrowed his eyes at what she was trying to show him, overlapping circles carved into the wood. "Did you do this?"

"No, dad did it. Infinity times infinity, for love." She explained.

"I like that."

"What will happen to our house?"

"It's being held as part of David's frozen assets. After that, I can't say."

"Someone else will buy it or they'll build over it." Amanda scratched her cheek, thinking out loud and looking out over the water. "It'll be like our house was never even here."

"Probably." Nolan shrugged. "It's the market out here." He would know, since his house now stood in place of a handful of smaller homes not unlike this one.

"It's not the market, it's the memory." She sighed and turned to the door. "Even when dad is shown to be innocent, no one will want to see this house and know dad lived here. It almost doesn't matter that he's innocent - he was named for 197 and that's all anyone will remember him for."

Nolan didn't like the gravity that had settled over Amanda since coming here. Maybe he should have waited to bring her back to the Clarke beach house - she'd been so happy after seeing David, and while she was at least more talkative now, she'd already lost that brightness from the day before. He wanted her happy but there was so little he could do to make that happen.

He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "Sometimes I forget how perceptive you are. You aren't a kid anymore, are you? Only in age, but you stopped being a kid the night they stormed in here to arrest David."

"I wish I was grown. If I was then people would listen to me and I could be more involved in all of this to help dad."

Nolan shook his head at that. "Amanda, look at me. This, whatever is happening, it's bigger than David or me or any one person. When Denise told me you had been taken to Millhouse, I knew something was wrong - from what she was able to tell, you were placed there without notice to anyone and as you said they refused to let you make any contact with the outside. Who knows how long you might've been there? I think it's all by design and I don't want you anywhere near it."

Nolan opened the set of doubledoors and scanned the lower level of the house - from what he could see the space was largely empty save for the ruined furniture. The agents had torn this place apart, cutting into the sofa and chairs, looking for evidence hidden in the stuffing or in picture frames, in the very walls of the house. He didn't want Amanda to see her home violated like this, and he would have turned back and barred her from coming inside, but from the gasp he heard at his back, he knew it was too late. Amanda had seen.

Still.

There was no one in the house, no one but them.

Nolan turned back to look at her, his eyes searching her face for a need of comfort, but instead he found a strange expression of resignation, resolve. Amanda took a deep swallow and steeled her eyes. She continued on with their conversation as if nothing had changed, as if they weren't standing in the ruins of her home.

"Why would dad and I be targeted like this?" She asked as she crossed the living room.

"I don't know why." He replied, closing the door behind them. "I know David would never be involved in anything like this - much love, but David is boring! He doesn't have a gambling problem, he isn't a womanizer, he's never lived beyond his means, I mean look at this house! Of all the mansions out here he chose the cottage and he chose it for you, so you wouldn't grow up into an entitled brat like every other kid in the Hamptons."

"Dad isn't like everyone else. He never has been. Maybe that's why."

"It could be." There was something to her theory. David had no vices, which in a way made him a perfect scapegoat. "I don't know. What I do know is that I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"I know you will." Amanda tried to smile at him but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you Nolan."

The pair was largely silent as they split up and scoured the house, avoiding any mention of the night David was arrested, of Marco or of Millhouse.

Most everything in Amanda's room had been taken for evidence: her diaries and artwork, her books and stereo, all to be analyzed for any clue of a connection between her and Americon Initiative. In practicality, Amanda understood things. The authorities had to take every precaution regarding the attack - children younger than Amanda had been used as soldiers, as suicide bombers, as drug mules and prostitutes all over the world and all throughout history. She couldn't expect to be looked at any differently, being the child of an alleged terrorist.

She knew this.

She understood it, but by God did it _hurt_ to see her life shredded like this!

Still Amanda forced her feelings down, away from the surface. If he saw her cry, Nolan would only try to comfort her and Amanda didn't want it. She didn't want his hugs or his sweet reassurances. She just wanted to feel nothing. She wanted to be with her father, far from all this. Away from the constant droning of the news, away from the sight of her father's mugshot, away from the immediate sneer associated with the name David Clarke.

Nolan had gone into David's room to look through what was left there, leaving Amanda alone in her old room. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked out the window, imagining that none of it had happened. That everything in her house, in her world, was still as it should be. That her father was downstairs making their lunch, that soon she would start high school and be well on her way into a bright future.

Amanda blinked away the stinging rise of tears. _Stop crying. It won't help anything._ She scowled at herself, angry at the show of weakness. She wanted to be ice cold, to feel nothing, to be as direct and powerful as Denise, a woman no man could belittle or touch.

She took two deep breaths and forced away the emotion, the weakness, until she felt an overall sense of calm. The girl was building a wall around herself, each brick a resolve that no one, nothing could render her as powerless as she'd been those weeks in Millhouse. She would learn to be strong and find a way to move forward.

 _If nothing can hurt me, then nothing can stop me._

Amanda leaned forward and put her hands over her face.

She and Nolan would free her father, and then the three of them would live a life together, far from anything that could hurt them. She pictured their future and she felt that she would do anything, _anything_ , to see it realized. She would force away her emotion, team with Nolan every step of the way, do whatever he asked of her. Amanda knew all too well that she was entirely powerless on her own but only with Nolan could she see her father, learn and better understand this awful situation.

For all of Amanda's resolve and perception, her hopes of a happy ending were largely childish. In time she would come to realize just how childish, but in that moment Amanda thought of Nolan and saw him for the true ally he was: Nolan was the only way to a life away from this nightmare. She didn't want to reduce her friend in such a way but it was the truth.

For now, Nolan was her only hope.

* * *

There wasn't much left to take from the beach house. Amanda found a few framed pictures that hadn't been broken - she and David at a carnival when she'd been five, a day she had always remembered so fondly; a picture of an old stray dog they'd found while living in London, Petey, the poor thing had only lived for two years after they'd taken him in, but in those two years Petey had lived like a king. Another picture, of David and Kara on their wedding day.

Everything else, the photo albums and books and diaries, all of that was away in evidence. It would all be released to them in time, once David was found innocent and set free.

For his part, Nolan had found a book under David's bed, some old mystery novel that must've been kicked under the bed on accident by an overenthusiastic raid agent. He'd been happy with the find, but on checking his watch and finding that they'd been at the house for longer than he'd intended, Nolan called a wrap on their visit.

The threat was still out there.

Americon Initiative could strike again at any time, in any number of ways. The hyper discreet security that Nolan had hired was engaged, but the Initiative was capable of violence on a grand scale. Nolan's five man team could only do so much against an invisible enemy that had shown no hesitation in murdering hundreds. He'd already taken a risk in coming to the Clarke house, there would be no more risks where Amanda was concerned.

"I know you hoped to find more here, but I'm glad the place wasn't completely emptied out." Nolan said. A few pictures wasn't much, but he knew Amanda would treasure them. Her parents' wedding picture, that alone was priceless.

"You're right. I hope I can bring this book to dad on our next visit." Amanda said as she settled into the passenger seat. Nolan steered them away from the Clarke house and quickly sped down the road, intent to get them out to town for the day out that he'd promised her.

"You should be able to, and he'll love that." An idea just occurred to Nolan. "Oh, lightbulb! Amanda, we can put together a care package for David."

"Care package?"

"Yes, like instead of just a book maybe we can bring him a box of the things he loves. Listen, I'll find out the limits from Denise and if they allow it, then we can get started."

Amanda smiled, already thrilling at the idea. What a thing it would be, to visit her father and present him with gifts that had the power of lifting his spirit. "Okay, yes, let's do it!"

Nolan smiled back at her even as he pressed down on the gas.

His car tore down the road, rapidly putting distance between them and the Clarke house. He could only hope that they hadn't been seen, but so far they hadn't been that lucky.

* * *

It was easier than Nolan had expected, going on without Marco. The loss of his lover still tore into him, their happier memories kept him awake at night. When they'd first met, when they'd first confessed their love, their first night together, the trips they'd taken, and the ring...the ring that Nolan still had, tucked away in the back of his desk drawer...the question he never asked, the answer that never was...

At night, Nolan missed Marco terribly.

In the daylight hours, Nolan hardly had a chance to even think Marco's name.

With Amanda in his house, sharing his space, she provided him a steady, constant distraction. Since seeing her father, it was as if the girl had woken up. What a difference that day had made, because gone was the sullen, one-word answer Amanda, the living shadow who spent most of her time in the guest room, either crying or sleeping. Nolan never wanted to see that girl again. Since seeing David, Amanda was lively, talkative and bright, forever asking him questions and begging that he walk the shore with her, play with her in the pool or take her to town.

She was exhausting, but she was exactly what Nolan needed.

It would be them, together, for the time being and perhaps from now on.

Nolan wasn't ready to see anyone else and Amanda was a complication that he couldn't allow anyone else to know about. They would go on as they were, and call on the ruse he'd crafted if anyone should ask: she was his younger cousin, staying with him for a spell. So far no one save the boutique owner had asked after their connection, but Nolan was sure that tongues would wag once the Hampton royalty returned; as far as he knew, the Graysons were spending some time in Europe...or maybe it was Mexico, who would know for sure? In any case, the Graysons were on vacation, and that suited Nolan just fine. He didn't need Conrad patronizing him or Victoria with her all fake smiles.

The Hamptons had been quiet since 197 and David's arrest, and Nolan found he liked it better this way.

His broken heart wasn't healed by any means, it was only numb during the day as his mind was distracted by the girl.

They had each other and it was fine. Everything was fine. Of course it was.

One day turned into another and before Nolan knew it, Denise was calling to announce that it was time for Amanda's next visit.

Nolan was happy to make the drive, and he looked forward to the Amanda that would emerge from the room after seeing her father once more. David and Amanda loved each other so much, Nolan was happy to play his part in reuniting them, in keeping their tiny family as intact as possible even as he felt a bit left out. Eventually he would need to speak to David face to face, but he wouldn't think to take a moment of Amanda's time with her father, especially when they had only just found where David was being held.

For now, he was content to wait while father and daughter had their time together.

David was lead into the room and Amanda wasted no time to run to her father, throwing her arms around him and squeezing hard. David's arms closed over her in return, hugging her to him. They parted and then moved to the table in the center of the sterile room.

"What have your lawyers said?" Amanda asked, hoping for some bit of good news.

"My lawyer said the trial date may happen next year." David said sullenly. He could scream his innocence day in and day out and it didn't matter - he had been named in the media, the man responsible for the bombed airliner that had killed over two hundred people. In truth, David didn't know if he should bother to hope to hold his daughter in freedom ever again.

For Amanda, he would keep fighting. His resolve was that he would walk away a free man, declared innocent, or he wouldn't walk away at all.

Amanda gaped at the words. "A year in jail?! Dad, it's too much!"

"I know, Amanda...God, I wish I had the power to make everything different for you. This was the last thing any man could ever want, but I'm doing what I can in cooperating with my lawyer. I don't want you to worry, it'll be all right for you." He could see her eyes turning bright with tears and was quick to try changing the subject. He could take most anything but he couldn't take seeing his daughter crying. "Please don't cry, baby, I want to know something happy - tell me more about life with Nolan."

"I wish I had some happier news to tell!" Amanda said and swiped at her eyes. "Nolan's boyfriend broke up with him because he wouldn't kick me out of the house."

David raised a brow - Marco and Nolan had been almost inseparable from the outset. He knew Nolan had to be devastated, but David was so very thankful that Nolan had chosen to keep Amanda. "Marco left Nolan? You met him?"

"No, I only talked to him as he was leaving."

"Does Nolan know that?"

"I didn't tell him, no. Nolan probably still thinks I believe Marco was just his roommate."

"He told you that?"

"On my first night at his house, yes." Amanda sighed. "Dad, I know it was wrong but I couldn't help it, I eavesdropped on them. I heard almost everything. Marco left Nolan because he wouldn't send me away. Nolan never talked to me about it, though. I don't know why he thinks being gay is such a big deal, other celebrities are gay." Amanda muttered.

She didn't want to disclose Marco's loss to her father - David would only feel guilty, and just the thought of that, her father feeling guilty for something he had nothing to do with, fed in to Amanda's resentment of their situation. Her father was innocent but the whole world was blaming him for something horrible.

It was all so unfair.

"He probably just didn't want to confuse you." David said. He really didn't want to talk about Nolan's bedfellows; he wanted to know more about Amanda, how she was faring without him, for if there was anything that David could do to reassure her, he would do it without question.

"He likes men instead of women, what's confusing about that?"

That was David's simplistic explanation to her when she'd been younger and curious as to why Nolan didn't have a wife like all the men on television and in her immediate acquaintance, minus her own widowed father.

"I guess not everyone has an easy time talking about it and it's not something you should bring up if you think he's still upset." David advised. He didn't want Amanda trying to push the issue with Nolan, not when the man was his lifeline to his daughter.

Amanda nodded, knowing her father was right. Nolan hadn't brought up Marco at all, and it wasn't Amanda's place to press him about it. Best to move on once more, "I wish you could come home with us today."

"Me too, kiddo. There's a lot I miss from the outside." Inwardly, David cringed at the term. He'd been in prison for less than six months and he was already up on the lingo. The next time Amanda saw him he might have convict tattoos and a sick yard name.

"Make a list, maybe they'll let me bring you more things next time." Amanda urged him. She couldn't stand to think of her father trapped in his cell all day, longing for simple comforts. She and Nolan had put together a simple care package for David weeks ago, and she would send her father a hundred more if it could brighten his day.

"I'll write out a list in my next letter to you." David promised. "Tell me what you do all day in the Hamptons."

"I know Nolan is still sad but I've been trying to pull him away from that." Amanda confided. "I watch him, and whenever I notice he gets really quiet or seems like he's daydreaming I'll say or do something to distract him. We walk on the beach everyday and he takes me into town a lot. One night we went down to the beach and made a little fire there, we didn't toast marshmallows though, we just brought sandwiches out with us. He said he'd try teaching me about coding and he challenges me to laps."

"Laps?"

"Swimming laps in the pool." Amanda explained. "Nolan swims a lot. He says it helps him when he feels stressed and almost every day he'll give me a number and when I swim that number of laps, he gives me an apple."

"An apple?"

"Or a pear, a banana, grapes." Amanda shrugged, and off her father's skeptical look, laughed in defense of Nolan. "It's a weird game, I know! Nolan named it _Fruit Laps_. He gives me a number of laps to swim, when I hit that number I get fruit as my reward. He said he'd buy me a whole orchard if I can learn how to jump through hoops like the dolphins at Sea World."

David laughed with Amanda at that bizarre visual, and internally he could see Nolan's reasoning behind this "game" - by providing a challenge with a reward at the end, Nolan was helping to keep Amanda fit and active. This kept her from retreating into herself, with the added bonus that she was keeping up with her healthy diet.

 _Bless you, Nolan._

"Sounds like a fun game. And you're behaving for him, aren't you?" He prompted.

"Yes, I promise I am. I remembered what you said about being an asset and not a burden. I'm trying to help Nolan in any way I can. We take turns cooking, two nights ago I made spaghetti and meatballs with a salad and I made cookies earlier that day so we could have dessert. Nolan has a maid for the house but I keep my room clean on my own. I don't bother him when he's working, I don't whine or argue. On Fridays I've been washing his car without him even asking me to do it!" Amanda told him proudly.

David whistled. "Wow, Amanda, where was all this motivation before the arrest? It takes me being in jail just for you to clean your room?"

"Dad!"

David laughed at her affronted expression. "Come on, Amanda, it's just a joke! We have to laugh a little, don't we?"

"When you get out, I want Nolan to come live with us. I'm not joking about that." Amanda declared.

David raised a brow at that, "I, ah, Amanda, that might be a long way off from now..."

"I know. I just keep picturing how it'll all be when this is finally over." She sighed lightly. "You, me and Nolan, we'll all live together, it'll be perfect."

David wasn't sure what a life like that would look like, but his daughter was openly longing for whatever fantasy she'd dreamed up. Probably the three of them living on a tropical island somewhere far away from everything, no doubt with Nolan and him in matching Hawaiian shirts while Amanda played between them for the rest of their days. A beautiful thought, given the reality he was facing.

"That is a nice thought Amanda, but again, you have to know it's a long way off."

"I wish it wasn't. I wish you could walk out with me and Nolan right now."

"So do I, kid." David hugged his girl in close and kissed the crown of her head. The guard knocked on the window and held up a finger, gesturing that there was only one minute left before their visit would be at an end.

David pulled from her and discreetly slipped a small shred of paper into her hand. To the guards and cameras, it only looked as if he was holding her hand. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Amanda, please, give this to Nolan." He pleaded under his breath.

Amanda caught the secrecy of his move and, as subtly as she could, slipped the scrap of paper into her pocket. "I will." She promised him, her voice dropping to a whisper.

David and Amanda said their goodbyes, with David returning to his cage and Amanda going back to Nolan in the lobby.

Amanda waited until they were in his car before she withdrew David's slip of paper.

"Nolan, dad wanted me to give you this."

Nolan took the scrap of paper, barely more than a half inch square, and frowned. It was a plain scrap, nothing remarkable about it, save for the message scratched into the paper, so light Nolan almost missed it.

 **GG=AI**

He narrowed his eyes.

Realization dawned.

"Nolan, what is it? What does it mean?" Amanda asked him.

"It means your father knows who's responsible for 197."


	10. Chapter 10

_"It means your father knows who's responsible for 197."_

Amanda gaped like a fish at what Nolan had just said, and for several minutes she stayed silent while he steered them back onto the highway, picking up speed and putting distance between them and Lockhart.

Nolan glanced at her and then pressed down harder on the gas. "When we get home I'm calling Denise. She might be able to find out something for us through her source."

Amanda looked again at the tiny scrap of paper. "GG...GG...is it Grayson Global? Dad's company did this?"

It was impossible - David had taken her to several of his work parties, the picnics and barbeques and he'd introduced her to people he worked with and hell, she'd made friends with their children! How could Grayson Global be behind any kind of attack, let alone an act so cruel and devastating to the country?

"It can't be, Nolan. Dad never would have worked with them if they were planning something like this!"

"Well I don't know any other GGs that David is involved with, do you? Could it be the initials of someone he knows?"

"I don't know." She said, and she was telling the truth. Amanda didn't know all of David's contacts, of course, how could she? Her father had worked in several different countries across the world and Amanda wasn't yet even fifteen years old - she was only aware of a bare handful of her father's colleagues...and not one of them had the initials GG.

"Maybe it's someone inside Grayson Global, or one of their clients that has some kind of connection with the Initiative." Nolan reasoned. "I'll ask that Denise talk to her contact in the bureau, we've got to find out what evidence they have against David."

"I want to be in on the call." Amanda declared.

"No."

"What! Nolan-"

"No, Amanda, I've told you from the start that I don't want you anywhere near this." He was firm in this, or, as firm as Nolan could be. He would do anything, absolutely anything, to protect her from the Initiative and its apparent vendetta against the Clarke family.

"And you also promised that you'd be honest with me. Nolan, please. You promised you'd protect me."

Amanda understood how Nolan saw her, as a precious ward, but she had to fight his instinct to keep her insulated from the hard truths of their situation. She had to make him see her as an equal - he'd already voiced that what she'd been through had stripped her of her childhood, but he had yet to fully bring her into the fold with him and Denise.

"Yes. You know I will."

Amanda strived to reason with him. "Protecting me and shielding me aren't the same things. Please, I have to know what's happening. You said it yourself that this - this _thing_ , the Initiative, they're targeting dad and I was already caught in the middle of it."

"Exactly, that's why I don't want you near this." Nolan shifted gears and changed lanes, his car swiftly moving through the surrounding traffic.

"But if you keep me blind to everything going on then I'll be an even easier target! You know that, Nolan. I'm not a kid anymore, you can't keep pretending." She pushed.

"Amanda, I'm just trying to protect you."

Amanda reached over and took his hand, squeezing it tight. "I know you are and I love you for that but Nolan, I'm...I'm not who I was before 197. You said it yourself. I'm different now, this has become my life. I feel like there's nothing else for me until dad can get out of prison and we can be a family again. If you don't let me in then I won't have anything."

Her words were rich, striking Nolan deep in his heart. The instinct was so strong in him to keep Amanda safe - after what had been done to her already, what she was still suffering through, everything in him rebelled against bringing more risk into her life. Yet the man had to admit, grudgingly, that what she said was true. If he forced Amanda into complete ignorance, then he would be putting her at risk himself. The idea of becoming a risk to his girl was repulsive.

Still. He couldn't allow Amanda to be all-in with this. Conditions had to be set.

"Amanda...all right." Nolan hit his palm against the steering wheel, flashing temper. He sighed heavily and looked at her for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. "But the minute, the very second that anything dangerous happens, you're out of it. You understand me?"

Amanda fought the urge to smile - she had _won_. "All right. I understand."

"No, promise me."

"I promise."

"We can be partners in this, but only to a point. I took you in because I believed I could keep you safe, and I will, whatever it takes. You're David's daughter and I would never, ever be able to forgive myself if something happened to you and what's more, it would absolutely _destroy_ your father. You know it would, you're all David has, you're his whole life. I need you to truly promise me that if anything dangerous happens, you'll agree to step away. No arguing, no fighting, you'll just step away without a word of protest."

Nolan's voice had taken on a hard tone, commanding her word on this.

Amanda hadn't released his hand, but she took it a step further and laced their fingers, squeezing his hand and put her free hand over her heart. "Nolan Ross - I promise you that I will step away, without a word in argument, if anything dangerous happens while we're looking into dad's connection to Americon Initiative."

Nolan raised a brow. "Wow, Amanda. That was a hell of a promise."

"I meant every word. Do you know that dad told me to be an asset to you, not a burden?"

"That's something from one of his business books." Nolan said, immediately recalling that he had a signed copy as a gift from David upon his first establishing NolCorp, years ago. "You were never a burden to me. I know you might feel like that sometimes, but I mean it. I enjoy the company."

"I enjoy you too, Nolan."

"All right." With that settled, Nolan returned to their original topic. "Denise always answers when I call, but it's a little late and her son has a ball game tonight-"

"How do you know that?" Amanda cut in.

"I hacked her calendar."

Amanda wasn't even surprised by his admission. It was strange how Nolan could so freely admit to things like spying on his friends and neighbors and she still counted him as being on the side of All Things Great and Good. Then again, hadn't she once read that there are no sides in the game of life, only players? "Of course you did."

Nolan raised a brow at her. "You disapprove?"

"It's her private schedule, and it has to be illegal for you to go into her computer. I don't remember you ever being so sneaky."

"It's like you just said, I'm not the same person I was before 197...none of us are." Nolan swallowed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he carefully changed lanes. "If there is a connection between Grayson Global and Americon Initiative, then it will be better to be sneaky."

Amanda understood him. "Who was it that said 'trust but verify'?"

"Suzanne Massie, she taught it to Reagan in the 80s during the Cold War when Russia and America were spying on each other but couldn't openly admit to being enemies."

"Denise is your friend, not a spy!"

"You're right, she is. And I have proof of that because she's obsessive about logging in every minute on her calendar." Nolan justified. "Apparently I take up a lot of her time."

"Imagine that!" Amanda scoffed.

"I'm a complicated client, but definitely her favorite."

"You won't be if she finds out you hacked her computer."

"True. But this is the world we live in now, kid, and I hate every rotten inch of it."

"So do I." Amanda sighed and thumped the back of her head on the seat headrest. "Why did this happen?"

"I'm hoping Denise can shed some light on that."

Later that night, after Amanda and Nolan parted after dinner and retired to bed, Amanda found herself awake after midnight and unable to sleep. She always grew thoughtful in the days after seeing her father. She hated to see David in chains and their parting was always painful, but she was so, so grateful that she was able to see him. It had been over three months since this ordeal began; had Amanda been denied all contact with her father she may well have just wasted away in this room by now.

Never mind all of Nolan's attempts at care and cheer, she would have fallen into despair.

On first seeing David, Amanda had woken from her depression and had since felt brighter and more open - but it was as Nolan had said. Her childhood was over. Amanda wasn't as silly and carefree a girl as she'd been only months ago, that had been burned out of her. She recognized the change in herself. To start, she was far less trusting of people; she rarely spoke to anyone when Nolan brought her to town and, when she did, she typically gave nothing away. She'd sunken into the role of Nolan's wayward cousin and was coming to enjoy the lie. She could create her own past, which in turn gave her a sense of control over her future.

Amanda had started looking to odd role models that she'd had no interest in before; female spy characters and femme fatales, women active in rejecting the tropes of helplessness and feminine softness. No damsels in distress, she was drawn to women who fought, who misled and misbehaved. In real life she looked to Nolan's lawyer, Denise Walker, a woman who by all accounts was a shark in the courtroom, commanding respect and terror in equal measure.

Amanda didn't hate herself, but she hated that she was still a child. She often dreamed of the woman she would become, how her body would look once she filled out, how her skin would clear, how she would dress and do her makeup and style her hair. She wanted to be elegant and beautiful, she wanted to draw in attention whenever she strode into a room, full of confidence and class on the outside, but _inside_ , inside she would be ice-cold. A living statue with a heart of bright, flawless diamond; a spine of steel, skin harder than granite. When she smiled her teeth would be fangs, when she spoke her words would drip poison.

No one would ever be able to hurt her or make her feel powerless or afraid ever again. No one would get close enough to even try.

Amanda craved that, the security that power in her own right would bring. She loved Nolan yet she was fully aware that she was nothing without him. She wanted more, she wanted to be his equal. She wanted to save her father and the three of them to escape off to their happily ever after, far away from all of this.

But underneath Amanda's newborn sense of suspicion, underneath her cravings for control and power - Amanda wanted more than anything to absolutely _destroy_ Americon Initiative. She fantasized about being the one to expose them, forcing them into the spotlight of the nation's rage. She dreamt of storming into whatever stronghold the Initiative had and attacking whoever she found, beating them, tearing into them with her fists, nails and teeth, slaughtering these cold, calculating monsters who had ruined her family.

In her heart, darkness had taken root.

Beyond anything, Amanda Clarke craved revenge.

* * *

The next day, the call between Nolan and Denise was succinct. Amanda didn't say much outside of explaining that David had slipped her the scrap of paper to give to Nolan at the end of their visit.

"It says _GG=AI_ , Denise. It has to be Grayson Global, someone inside the company or one of their clients. David must at least have a lead, if he doesn't have a name. Do you know what he's told his lawyer so far?"

"That information is priveleged."

"Don't I know it." Nolan scoffed. "I've been trying to bribe associates in his office for the last two months and so far it's been a dead end."

"Sir you can't keep doing things like that! I'll have my hands full with keeping you out of jail." Denise warned him. There was a bottle of vodka that Denise kept in a locked drawer of her desk, for emergencies only. Thanks to Nolan's constant pushing where David and Amanda Clarke were concerned, she would need to replace the bottle within the week.

"You worry too much Denise, it's not like I've been going to them directly."

"If you truly believe that Mr. Clarke is innocent, if you believe he is being framed, then it should be enough of a warning that no one is untouchable. Mr. Ross, I promise that I'll keep pressing my source and I will continue to reach out to Mr. Clarke's lawyer, but as your attorney, I am begging that you step away from this. Think of your company, your employees." Denise then played her trump card. "Mr. Ross, you need to think of Amanda. You're all she has now."

Nolan clenched his jaw and looked at Amanda, who had just been listening in on the call. She looked back at him, her expression worried. "I am thinking of her. Every day. That's why I have to help her father."

"As I said, I'll keep pushing for answers, but none of this can trace back to you."

* * *

Amanda kicked a rock out of her path. "It wasn't dad. Someone he worked with has to be framing him, it's the only thing that makes sense."

"Hmm. I don't think it's any one person, something this big can't be just one person."

"But it's also too big to be all of Grayson Global, someone would tell."

"So a small group of very powerful, very deranged people. It makes sense in a horrific, Illuminati kind of way." Nolan remarked as he rolled up the ankle of his jeans so they could walk on the beach. "Flight 197 goes down, David takes the fall and you, you're just some collateral damage that got packed off the Millhouse to keep you quiet. I don't know what they planned to do with you there - maybe keep you there until you aged out or maybe transfer you somewhere else, just keep you bouncing around in the system."

Amanda felt a chill pass through her at the thought.

She knew Nolan never meant his words as any kind of pointed reminder, but all the same she felt her sense of gratitude swell for the man. Nolan was her hero, sweeping in to rescue her from that sterile, sick place, delivering her to his glass fortress on the shore and reuniting her with her father.

The man had such a big heart, always giving and expecting nothing in return. Amanda wanted to give to him, regardless of his lack of expectation. Something, anything. All she had to offer was her loyalty, her side of the partnership they'd developed.

Amanda looped her arm through his as they continued their trek on the shore, gritty sand sinking under their bare feet.

"That makes sense, but why would anyone do this? All the crime shows say to follow the money, so who would have gained the most from a plane crash?"

"That side of it is worth looking into, but what concerns me is the evidence the other side claims to have against David. I want to talk to him, talk to his lawyer, but I can't. Denise has been pretty clear about that, my friendship with him is a risk to my company and I can't threaten my employees' security, not after 197."

"I understand. I do, Nolan, please believe me. You are the only thing I don't resent or flat-out hate in this entire situation. "

Nolan laughed at her, "That's a huge compliment, coming from a sullen teen who hates everything!"

"I don't hate _everything."_

"No, just everything except me and David. I don't blame you, he and I are the last two good men on the planet, which, sorry to say, leaves your dating options pretty slim." Nolan was relieved to see Amanda smile. In the ruin of her life, he was glad to bring in a bit of levity here and there.

"Funny enough, dating isn't high on my priority list, and dating dad is never going to happen!"

"Guess that just leaves us, huh?" Nolan nudged her as they walked. "Here's a promise, once you turn 18 I'll take you for a night on the town."

Amanda rolled her eyes lightly at his promise. A date with Nolan - a real date? What would that even be like? Amanda hadn't any experience in dating yet and besides that, she'd never thought of Nolan in that way. Being that she knew he was still grieving Marco, Amanda very much doubted that Nolan would have any interest in dating her, even when she was old enough.

Amanda looked at him as they walked on, taking in his face and tried to see him obectivley, as just a man and not the friend she loved so much. He was handsome, she supposed. Nolan had high, prominent cheekbones, bright blue eyes and thick sandy hair that he'd let grow out. It gave him a carefree, boyish appearance that she liked. Aside from his physical charms, the man was everything warm and wonderful under the sun. She could hardly remember a time when Nolan wasn't in her life; he'd always been there, a familiar solid presence.

"A night on the town? We already go into town all the time." She reasoned. Going into town with Nolan was something of an adventure, he was always keen to buy her new clothes or take her out to eat, encouraging her to try foods she'd never had before. His way of distracting them both from everything they'd lost in the past few months.

"Those, my dear, are day dates." Nolan waved his hand, dismissing them as child's play. "I'm talking about a real date, I - wait, has your dad talked about any of this with you?"

"No, not really." David had been hoping the day might never come when his baby girl announced she wanted to start going out with boys.

"I'll leave it alone, then. God, I can barely date now, so who am I to even talk about it?" Nolan shrugged it off. "Still. I'll take you for a special 18th birthday and that's a promise."

It was a strange thing to consider, but the bell in her mind could not be unrung.

* * *

It was another several weeks before Denise had anything to tell them. While Nolan returned his company to working order and Amanda built the foundation of her future self, Denise had been pushing David's lawyer and her friend in the bureau for the evidence against David.

"...as far as the evidence against Mr. Clarke, the prosecution has bank transfers from accounts abroad, email messages and coded texts lifted from his cell phone. Perhaps the most damning will be the eye witness testimony." She explained from her office. It was well past nine in the evening, Nolan and Amanda were huddled in close on the living room couch, the phone set between them so they could both hear every word.

Since being allowed onto these calls, Amanda usually let Nolan and Denise do the talking - Nolan knew which questions to ask, while Amanda was still struggling to divorce her emotions from the situation. What Denise had learned from the opposition all sounded damning, as if the odds were stacked so high against her father that it was hopeless to even try fighting back. She gulped in air, trying to force away the tightening in her throat - she had to remind herself that crying was useless.

"Is it confirmed that David set up the accounts or that he was made aware of the bank transfers?" Nolan asked.

"Unconfirmed as of now, but I am sure that the bank statements will be connected with any security footage, recorded phone calls or IP addresses to show who initially opened the accounts."

"How large were the transfers, I'll guess we're not dealing with a few bucks here and there."

"Correct, sir. Several million dollars at a time. Ten million was transferred the week before 197, another ten million was transferred the day after."

"Making it look like he took half the payment as a kind of deposit and then the rest once the job was done." Nolan rubbed a hand over his face. "Can they tell where the money came from?"

"That is under investigation. The current line of thinking is that Mr. Clarke acted as a freelancer, that he was essentially hired by the Initiative to carry out the attacks rather than being a member of the Initiative himself."

Nolan raised a brow. "Does that mean they're open to cutting some kind of deal, immunity in return for information?"

"Not unless Mr. Clarke can actually provide something to the investigation - so far he hasn't been able to produce anything other than a claim of innocence."

"He is innocent." Nolan asserted. He knew Denise was still on the fence in her own opinion and was only looking into this under his order, but he wanted her to believe what Nolan knew to be true. "What about the witnesses? What exactly did they witness him doing?"

"I don't have access to their statements, but I will press my source again sir."

"Can I make a wild guess and say they're all connected to Grayson Global in one way or another? Tell me I'm right, I already know I am." Nolan sat back and waited for her confirmation.

"You are, sir. I don't have a list of names but I can confirm that they all are, or were, employed through Grayson Global."

Nolan wrapped up the call and turned to Amanda. "Looks like there's some detective work to do."

* * *

It was hours after their call with Denise that Amanda was once again laying in bed and staring at the ceiling in the dark. She hadn't slept a wink, rolling the conversation through her mind again and again, recalling each question and answer, every rumored piece of evidence that Denise had brought to them. It was a conspiracy against her father but she had no idea why.

Amanda's thoughts were interrupted and she lifted her head, listening. She was sure she'd just heard something. Amanda held her breath and listened again, hearing the sound once more. Curious, she threw back her blanket and left the bed, creeping her way down the hallway toward the living room. The overhead light was on, and Nolan was sitting at the table with his laptop and a printer. Behind him, several pages were taped to the wall with hastily scribbled Post-It notes attached.

It looked like the conspiracy webs from mystery films.

"Nolan, what are you doing?"

He didn't look up from his rapid typing, he'd been at this for hours and was far too focused. "I'm going through all the Grayson Global pictures I can find - a lot of these are from magazines and the company website. Oh, look who it is!" Nolan smiled and held up a candid picture he'd just printed of Amanda herself from the previous summer at a company party, filed on the Grayson site's public album - _Company Kids_. Amanda remembered that party, in the picture she looked so happy, she and two other company daughters smiling at the camera, their mouths stained purple and green thanks to the party sno-cones.

Amanda moved to sit down across from him and sorted through the most recent pile of pictures he'd printed, until one caught her eye. "Nolan, who is this?"

Nolan glanced at the picture, "That would be the Queen of the Hamptons."

"No, no, I mean, who is she?" Amanda pressed. "I've seen her before."

"You've met her? Probably at one of the company parties, right?"

"No, she's been at the beach house. I saw her a couple times but I never spoke to her."

"She was at your house, when?"

Amanda cleared her throat, not sure if she should be talking about this, but she reasoned that if this could be important, she should tell Nolan. "A few times I would see her late at night when I was supposed to be in bed - when I can't sleep sometimes I'll go sit on the porch swing. I've seen her go into the house, but I never said anything because I didn't want to get in trouble for being outside at night by myself. Every time I saw her, dad met her at the door and they kissed and...then they would go into the house..." Amanda trailed off, deeply uncomfortable voicing what she'd seen. Already she could feel heat rising in her cheeks, embarrassed, and she couldn't meet Nolan's eyes when he looked at her.

"Hmmm. I'm getting the picture." Nolan said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know! I didn't think it was important, I just thought dad had a girlfriend he didn't want to tell me about. The last time I saw her, she was leaving in the morning, it was so early the sun hadn't even come up yet. That was a week before 197."

"Oh, wow...Amanda, she's Victoria Grayson, wife to the CEO of Grayson Global." Nolan told her.

"She's married?!"

"Oh, yeah. She is very married, they even have a son about your age. Amanda, you're sure, 100% positive that she's the woman you saw with David?"

"Yes, it's her. I thought maybe dad didn't want to tell her about me...but she's married, do you think dad knew?"

Nolan could see that she was desperate to give her father the benefit of the doubt, but he had promised the girl a measure of honesty. He could no longer shield her from the truth. "Amanda, there is no way he couldn't have known. David worked side by side with her husband."

"I didn't think he'd do this."

"I know David can do no wrong in your eyes, but if what you saw is right then this whole thing is becoming more clear. I guess David isn't as boring as I thought." Nolan sat back and whistled. "An affair with the boss's wife. Kinda cliche, but I can see the sexy angle of the whole thing. The thrill of sneaking around right under Conrad's nose, all the secret looks when they see each other at company parties and pretending innocence the whole time..."

Amanda scowled, repulsed. "Nolan, stop!"

"You're right, sorry. I know what you're thinking, but it's too easy - Conrad pins 197 on the guy nailing his wife-"

"Ugh."

"-and gets away with mass murder? He might be involved but something as big as what happened, it can't be down to one man blaming the crime on another man over an affair. No woman is worth that. There has to be another reason and there have to be more people involved, which brings us back to that eyewitness list Denise was talking about."

"Did she give you the list?"

"Not yet, that's why I've been going through all the pictures I can find." Nolan gestured to the wall where all the pages had been taped. The Post-It notes he'd attached to the pictures show hire and promotion dates, former employers, reasons for termination, a bit of everything. Small details that may fit into the bigger picture going forward. "I'm less curious about the names and more curious about what it was they supposedly saw and what they'll say once it's time to take the stand."

Amanda looked through the other pictures. "Do you think Denise will be able to get it to you?"

"A man can dream." Nolan said. "Do you recognize any other people?"

Amanda held up a picture of a pretty blonde woman. "Her. I think. I don't remember her name."

"Lydia Davis. She is or was, David's assistant. Anyone else in this picture jumping out at you? Take your time."

"I don't know, I don't know!" Amanda burst out, frustrated. "I'm sure I met everyone but I can't remember their names or anything-"

"Hey, hey, Amanda it's okay."

"No it's not okay, they framed my father and I can't do anything about it!" Amanda pounded her fists on the table, surprising them both.

"Amanda, you've already helped a lot just by recognizing Victoria." Nolan tried to soothe.

"What good is that going to do? So I saw her a few times, it might not mean anything and who's going to listen to me anyway?"

"Amanda you are more powerful than you realize. I think you were stashed away in Millhouse because of what you'd seen - you were a threat, you still are."

"Let me take the stand, then! I'll tell the whole world what I saw if it would free dad!" Amanda took a deep breath, dousing her temper. She couldn't do this, let her emotions get the better of her. She wanted to build herself into a woman who had complete control. She had to start now.

"There - right there, that's what makes you dangerous, Amanda!"

Dangerous.

There was power in danger.

"What can I do, Nolan?"

"We'll tell Denise what you saw. If she can pass it along to David's lawyer then that might assist the defense."

"I'll do anything to help."

Nolan considered her, and then asked, "Amanda, I hate to ask you this, especially when your time with him is so short, but I need to speak with David."

"I understand." Nolan watched as Amanda took a deep breath, and he could see her resign herself. "Do you need all the time?"

"No, no." He said, quick to reassure her. "Half. Give me just ten minutes with him, it might be enough."

"All right."

* * *

It took Denise several hours over the phone with Lockhart's warden, but she managed to move up the date for David's visit. The adjustment to the prison calendar, however, came at a price. In exchange for changing the date, Amanda would have to skip the following month's visit. It was a one-sided deal, and Denise accused the warden of petty cruelty, while the warden reminded her that David was no ordinary prisoner. They growled back and forth over the phone, insults were shouted and threats were made, but in the end Nolan and Amanda had agreed to the terms.

Amanda looked forward to the visit with her father nonetheless, and tried to put it from her mind that this month's visit would be shorter than normal and that she would be deprived of her father's company for double the usual length of time. She was glad that Nolan would get to see him, and it was possible that in speaking with her father Nolan might learn enough to unravel this awful conspiracy.

So, with only ten minutes to see her father, Amanda swallowed down her anger and disgust - such strange feelings that she'd never had against him before. It made her feel unbalanced, as if this man, her father, it was as if he somehow _wasn't_. There was an invisible crack in the veneer of Amanda's image of him and she didn't know how to reconcile it. So while they talked as they had before, he asked her questions about how she was faring and Amanda answered with general truths, she was not wholly present in the conversation. As they spoke, Amanda took in the sight of her father, this man who had engaged into an affair with another man's wife. Victoria Grayson, his secret lover. How many other secrets could David be keeping, not just from her, but from Nolan and everyone else?

She hated to think that way, but doubt had been planted in her mind. She so wanted to question David, find out why he had done it, why he hadn't told her...but there was no time. Maybe on their next visit, then. Or the visit after that, or the visit after. Perhaps David would want to explain himself when she was older. That was fine. Amanda decided that she could wait.

So, she hugged her father and told him how much she loved him, he told her how much he loved her, and they parted company once again.

Moments later, Nolan strode in and took Amanda's seat across the table from David.

Nolan took in the sight of the man, the striking signs of stress. How thin he'd become, the dark circles under his eyes, the faded bruise on his jaw - gift from a vindictive guard, no doubt. This was Nolan's beloved mentor. The man looked like he was in hell, and just on seeing him, Nolan was sure that poor David was. Amanda was the only thing keeping him going now. Amanda and the hope that he'd make it out of this mess to see life again on the outside.

In turn, David took in the sight of Nolan Ross, the only friend he had left in the world. Lanky, silly, odd-ball Nolan Ross. Of course, that was just one side of the man. From what Amanda had told her, Nolan had not only rescued her, he had sacrificed his lover to keep her safe. The man was a hero, and David jumped at the chance to tell him so. "Nolan! Nolan, thank you so, so much for taking in Amanda. She's told me everything, how you found her and how you've been looking after her, I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Nolan only shrugged at David's gratitude. There really wasn't any time for pleasantries. "You can thank me by shedding some light on just what the hell is going on."

"Nolan, I didn't do this, you have to believe me." David reached across the table and took Nolan's hand into a hard grip. A grip, he was thankful to feel, that Nolan returned.

"You know I don't believe it, I never did." Nolan reassured him. "I know it wasn't you. I know you, David, and the man I know could never be involved in something like this. Not knowingly. I don't know anyone who could. 197...it was...sick." Nolan took a deep breath and swallowed, shrugging off the memory of that day, of the crash, the fire, the death... Nolan cleared his throat. "There's no other word for it, it was a sick crime committed by sick, horrible people."

"I'm so sorry about Marco." David told him. "Amanda told me your _roommate_ left when you refused to send her away."

"Thank you, David." Nolan took a deep breath and forced himself not to think of Marco. He ignored the pain spreading in his chest. Marco was gone, it was over. "I thought he would come around to her being in the house, but...losing his twin, it was too much for him. He couldn't stay. Which brings us back to why you're in here."

"Did you get my note, that scrap I gave to Amanda last month?"

Nolan leaned forward, having lowered his voice and put a hand over his mouth to keep their discussion a secret from the overhead camera. "Mmm. **GG=AI**. The **GG** being Grayson Global, and the **AI** being Americon Initiative. Tell me, who in Grayson Global is part of this? Is it Victoria?"

David raised his brows, clearly found out. "How do you know about her?"

"Amanda!" Nolan declared. "David, your kid is an insomniac and an accidental spy. She's seen Victoria sneaking over to your house more than a few times, not to mention Vicky's walk of shame back up the beach."

"Amanda knows." David lowered his head as shame rose up and clawed at him - Amanda had seen Victoria and at this point knew of his affair. It didn't matter that he'd loved Victoria, it didn't matter that they had made plans for a life together once she'd left Conrad...Amanda knew what he'd done, the weakness that had lead him down this path of ruin.

"Oh yeah, and while the idea of her father having sex is disgusting enough on its own, she was more upset at the realization that you've been hooking up with a married woman, and I can't say I blame her! The boss's wife, David. I'd be impressed if it wasn't such a stale cliche, I mean, what were you thinking?" Nolan demanded.

"I wasn't thinking, Nolan, that's the problem! At least, not until it was too late. Not until I saw 197 on the news and couldn't get either Grayson on the phone, then the next day a SWAT team storms the house and you know the rest." David finished miserably. He hadn't wanted to tell Amanda about Victoria, not until the time was right - after the arrest he'd hoped against hope that Amanda would never learn of his weakness, his straight stupidity where Victoria had been concerned.

Now, to learn that Amanda had known all along! She'd just left their visit and she hadn't said a word about it - why? Was she angry with him? Disgusted? Ashamed? He didn't know, and it would be some time before he saw Amanda again so that he could try to explain himself.

 _God, what will I tell her? I did this. I've ruined her life and it was all for a lie!_

"David, I'll tell your lawyer! My legal eagle doesn't want me anywhere near this but let me get into contact with your guy so I can tell him about this-"

"What do you think I've been doing this whole time, Nolan?" David demanded. "I've told him everything I know, but I can't bring Victoria into this. Your lawyer wants you to stay away from this and so do I."

Nolan frowned. "What? David, I can-"

"No, you listen to me. The Graysons have framed me, they've paid damn near everyone in the company to testify against me, but think of what they did to Amanda." He stressed. "Nolan if you get involved, it could be made public that you have her and we already know what these people are capable of."

It seemed every argument always came back to Amanda.

The potential threat against her, the impact one course of action or another might have on her. Nolan understood. The girl was the perfect pawn for the Initiative. They had manipulated circumstances to keep her caged in Millhouse. They had to know that she'd been taken from the facility, though the news hadn't been made public and no one had come to Nolan to find her. Perhaps the Initiative had no active use for her now, but the idea of a threat against her was enough to keep David relatively under their control. He will proclaim his innocence but he won't name the true culprits.

Americon Initiative were some clever bastards - but Nolan was a bit clever himself.

He would find a way.

"David, what do you want me to do?"

David took a breath and squeezed Nolan's hands again. "Stay out of this and above everything, keep Amanda away from the Graysons. Promise me Nolan, I'm begging you, please."

Nolan dipped his head. What could he do but agree when the man was begging him to protect his daughter? The man felt torn all over again.

Amanda had pleaded to be included, David was pleading for her protection.

Nolan had to find a way.


	11. Chapter 11

Nolan stared up at the clear night sky, swaying his feet back and forth in the water. It was late. Very late. He was tired but knew if he tried for sleep in his room he'd just be staring at the ceiling instead. The sky was the better choice. He needed the fresh air.

The pool light cast the moving water against the house. There was no other light. It was nice, enjoying the quiet like this. He sat on the edge of the pool and leaned back on his hands. He closed his eyes briefly, tried and failed to ignore the memories of night swims with Marco in this pool. Just the two of them, naked and so in love and so, so sure that nothing could break them. That had been only months ago, back when the world made sense.

Nolan opened his eyes.

He knew that he had to stop doing this to himself, drifting into memories of love in a simpler time. He fought against thinking of Marco in the day, but at night he was helpless against the rising tide of missing his man, his friend, his lover, his...his... _his Marco_. It was an ache in his chest, a deep sense of emptiness. He was lonely even when he was with the girl, smiling, hiding behind behind his facade of her silly friend and protector. There was nothing for it. Marco was gone. Nolan hadn't heard a word from him since the night he left. It had been weeks. Soon it would be months, a year.

It was over.

In time, Nolan was sure that he'd be at a party somewhere or at a restaurant in the city and he'd see Marco again - Marco and whichever new man he had at his side.

The thought tore at him because it was inevitable. Marco would move on with someone else, while Nolan would remain alone.

As long as he kept Amanda, Nolan had to remain alone. For her safety and for his own.

In a way, he didn't mind. He was protecting the child of his friend from very real danger. He knew anyone else he brought into his life could be in danger as well. He understood this, he accepted it. He knew it was better this way and it wouldn't be forever.

So, for now, it was just him and Amanda.

Him, Amanda and the fight to help David clear his name and be released from prison. Nolan reached into the pool to wet his hand, then slicked his hair back off his face. Amanda had told him her dream about the three of them running off into the sunset, her version of a happily ever after. Him, Amanda and her father escaping all this, retiring away to a place where they wouldn't be recognized as being connected to the nightmare of 197.

Nolan knew that would never happen but he did believe that he could help to free David.

No, they wouldn't bind themselves into a family for the express purpose of fleeing into anonymity. Nolan had built his life, he wouldn't abandon it for Amanda's fantasy.

The best they could hope for, he thought, was that there would be a day when the three of them would sit down together after David was proven innocent, there would be drinks and good food and music and laughter and they would just... _be._

That was a lovely thought, attainable, and very much worth fighting for.

"Nolan?"

He turned and saw Amanda standing in the back doorway wearing a pair of tights and another of his band shirts. He'd found she had a habit of stealing his t-shirts. He sometimes wondered if she used to wear David's shirts to bed and was just continuing the habit with him. It was flattering, in a way.

"Hey Amanda. Can't sleep?"

She shrugged and approached him. "Looks like I'm not the only one."

"There's a name for that." He then slicked his hair back again as a few locks fell forward into his eyes.

"I don't think I'm a real insomniac, I just have a lot on my mind these days." She said with a shrug, casting her eyes about the space. She could hear the waves on the shore below but it was difficult to see anything beyond the light of his infinity pool. She looked up and could see the bright stars, then wondered when her father had last seen them. Guilt was never far from her.

"Me too, kid." Nolan patted the ground to his right, inviting her to join him at the pool's edge. "Have a seat, get your feet wet."

Amanda rolled her tights up over her knees and sat beside him, sliding her lower legs into the water. She swayed her feet back and forth just as Nolan was doing.

"What're you doing out here? It's nearly 2."

"Too much on my mind, if I didn't come out here I'd be pacing a groove into my bedroom floor." Nolan said, which wasn't far from the truth.

"You never told me what dad said when you spoke with him." Amanda said.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know what her father had to say for himself regarding the affair. Being men, she understood that he would explain things to Nolan in a different way than he would to her - but what could he say? That he was sorry, that he'd been seduced, that he was helplessly in love, that he didn't _know?_

None of it mattered, really.

He had entered into an affair with a married woman, carried on with her in secret and now, he'd been framed for a massive, horrible act. That woman, she might be behind it, or her husband, or someone or many people connected to their company - clearing her father's name was all that mattered. The rest could be dealt with later.

"I know. I wish I could tell you that he gave me the golden ticket that would fix everything but he really didn't give me much to work with." Nolan said quietly. "He wants you out of this."

Amanda wasn't surprised. "What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him about our agreement and he didn't tell me much about Victoria. I think she has to be involved in some way and and I think the Initiative is using the threat against you to keep him quiet where she's involved."

Nolan hadn't meant to tell her that; he didn't want Amanda to feel guilty, but he had agreed to treat her as more of an adult, to speak as freely with her as he would with a grown woman about their situation.

Amanda leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Again, for the hundredth time, the thousandth time, she felt that raw craving to be powerful in her own right. She wanted so much to be more than a helpless child.

She wanted so much to be more than just the Initiative's pawn.

"Forget about me! Dad has to tell if he knows who could be behind this. Otherwise he'll _never_ get out of prison." That couldn't happen. Of all the imagined endings to this nightmare, Amanda refused to allow for her father wasting away in jail for the rest of his life to be the one true end. He had to get out, there was no other way.

Nolan reached over and put his hand on the narrow expanse of Amanda's back, lightly stroking her between the shoulder blades, his touch meant to comfort. Amanda ignored her sudden gooseflesh.

"David would do anything for you. Amanda, you're lucky. My father...he wouldn't have spat on me if I'd been on fire."

"You never talk about your dad."

"There's not a lot to say, and nothing good to say."

Amanda didn't look at him when she voiced the question. She kept on staring at the water. "Nolan, the way your father treated you...was it because of Marco?"

The heavy hand on her back stopped moving. The pair of feet beside her own in the pool stopped swaying.

She heard Nolan take in a deep breath and she was sure she could _feel_ him thinking of how best to answer her question.

"I was never what he wanted in a son, and it wasn't because of Marco. It...it wasn't only because of that. There were a lot of reasons, but in the last few years I've come to understand it was because there was something wrong with my father, not with me."

"There's _nothing_ wrong with you, Nolan."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. I have my problems, just like you and David and everyone else." Nolan reasoned. "You know about Marco."

"I didn't realize it at first. That night he came back, I talked to him in the driveway before he left."

Nolan was surprised at that - Marco had confessed his fear, that he could hurt the girl for what her father had done. Amanda had gone after Marco alone, where the man could have all too easily attacked her. The thought was chilling, yet Amanda hadn't shown having so much as a scratch that night when they had shared their Chinese dinner.

He had been trying so hard to put Marco from his mind and yet, he had to know. "What did he say?"

"He said that he knew you loved him and that he loved you." That much was true.

Nolan took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I did. I still do."

"Then he must still love you too, Nolan, there's no way he couldn't. When this is over, when everyone knows that dad is innocent, maybe you and he can-"

"It's a nice thought, Amanda. I don't know what will happen. I wish I did. All I know is, that night I had to make a choice and for the first time, I didn't choose him. I couldn't."

"Nolan-"

"I never knew what having a real dad was like until I met David." He interrupted softly.

"You think of him as your father?"

"Not...no, not exactly. I see David as my friend, but it goes deeper than that. He's been a mentor to me and he just...he's taught me more about what being a man means than my own father ever could. David means a lot to me, Amanda. So do you." Nolan slid his hand from her back over to her shoulder, pulling her to him. Amanda moved to lean against him easily, grateful to be held. He squeezed her shoulder and kissed the crown of her head, then released her a moment later, leaning back on his hands and once more swaying his feet in the water.

They were quiet for a time, just thinking.

Amanda hadn't known much about Nolan's early life, but it hurt her to think that his own father hadn't cared about him. She wanted to know more, but she didn't want to push him for answers. They were on a different level with each other than they had been before, yet Amanda still knew her place. She had already crossed the line in speaking of Marco. It wouldn't be right to dig into his every painful memory. Not now, perhaps not ever.

For his part, Nolan hadn't known that Amanda had spoken to Marco that night. She hadn't breathed a word about it or let on that she knew anything about that side of his life. Well. It was something of a relief that she knew but it changed nothing.

The world kept on spinning. David was still in prison and they were still here, together.

Amanda broke the silence first. "It's nice out tonight."

"Mmm. I come out here when I can't sleep. There have been a few restless nights lately." Nolan confessed.

"Huh. I wonder why that might be."

"I know. Total mystery. You said you'd go sit outside when you couldn't sleep at the beach house, that's how you saw Victoria."

"That's right."

Nolan thought on what she'd shown him at the cottage, how David had carved the wood on the porch railing. Infinity times infinity, for love. "I'll get a bench swing out here for you like that one at your dad's house. A little taste of home."

"You don't have to-"

"It's not about having to, Amanda, it's about _wanting_ to. Besides, now that we've both admitted to restless nights, a bench swing might be a nice addition." Nolan gestured to an open area of the patio. "I'll put it right there. We're both so restless I bet we'll end up out here either sharing it or fighting over it."

Amanda yawned. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for that, it was already late when you came out and you've been out here long enough. Go on, get to bed."

She stood up and waited, but Nolan remained at the pool's edge. "What about you?"

"I'll go to bed in a little while. Do you want to go to town for lunch?"

"Sure. I'd like that. I think I could use some new clothes."

"Anything you want, Amanda."

* * *

"Mr. Ross and Ms. Thorne, it's great to see you both again." Marie greeted them as the pair stepped into the Rosehill Boutique.

Amanda was wearing the jeans and blouse from that first bundle of clothes that Marie had brought to Nolan's house, months ago now; the fit of both were a little off, and not in keeping with the style Amanda was aiming to achieve. Nolan didn't know it yet but she was hoping for something of a wardrobe makeover. He might not care much for his clothes, but that was because Nolan had made it. He'd achieved so much that he was untouchable now; there was no one left to impress and everything about him rang out that message loud and clear - while most of the men in town were decked out in Armani and Rolex, Nolan was wearing a pair of plaid cargo shorts with a lime green polo shirt, the collar popped high.

Nolan's personal style was that he had no style.

Amanda, on the other hand...she still looked like the little girl she no longer was. That's all anyone saw when they looked at her - and even when they did see her, it was only for a moment because Nolan was the real attraction, his genius and celebrity would always outshine his little nothing of a cousin. No one paid any attention to her, why would they?

She looked innocent and stupid and helpless. She looked _weak_ and that had to change. Nolan had sacrificed his love for her, David could be sacrificing his freedom. Amanda couldn't let another day pass being the same Amanda she'd always been. There were so few things in her control, but what she wore, the image she projected to others, she could start to control that.

From there...

Amanda smiled at Marie, the same cheery saleswoman from their first visit. Of course Marie recognized them, no saleswoman worth her salt would forget a billionaire customer.

Amanda smiled at her. "Hello."

"What can I help you with today?"

Nolan shrugged. "Whatever you want, kid. It's all up to you."

Not being up on fashion for girls, he didn't much care what Amanda chose to wear, so long as she didn't come out dressed like a hooker - which, these days, was an unfortunate possibility.

"Do you want me to stick around or would you rather come find me at the club?" Nolan asked.

Since bringing Amanda into his home the man had hardly left her side. Letting her off on her own now seemed a safe bet - no one knew who she really was, and in making the deal with Amanda he'd been forced to acknowledge that as she was no longer a child, he could no longer treat her as one.

No more watching her every move or holding her hand to cross the street.

Amanda smiled to reassure him. "I'll come find you, Nolan."

"All right. Have fun ladies." Nolan waved at them both and left the shop, intent for the beach club down the street a ways, one of the few places that Nolan could tolerate being among the elites. They made a hell of a mojito, which helped.

Marie turned to Amanda. "So, what were you looking for today?"

"I...I want to look like I'm older. Like them." Amanda made a gesture toward the other side of the street where a gaggle of pretty twenty-somethings were walking.

Amanda and Marie watched as Nolan crossed the street, passing the women, all of whom paused to watch him. Amanda didn't know what was said, but they seemed to start laughing once Nolan was out of earshot.

Amanda scowled, who were they to tease him? Nolan was rich enough to buy out the entire Hamptons and he was a wonderful man. If he dressed differently, more the part of a billionaire, then those women wouldn't be laughing. They'd be falling over themselves just to get his attention... _for all the good it would do them_ , Amanda thought with a smirk.

Marie caught what had just happened and shook her head, frowning at the women. "I can dress you like them, so long as you don't start acting like them. Deal?"

Marie herself had been on the receiving end of more than a few snide comments in her time - never mind that she'd earned an MBA, put together the business plans and raised the capital for her shop all on her own; to the elites, she was just another shopgirl. Just the help. Yes, she could dress this girl like all the other Hamptonites but she'd be damned if she would have a hand in creating another one.

Marie had bumped into Nolan a few times and he'd struck her as something of a kindred soul - a hard-working man of the middle class who had found himself in the Hamptons by happy accident, him by way of his genius in technology, her by her strong business acumen and a pure love for fashion. As a girl she'd dreamed of designing for celebrities, so setting up shop here had put her one step closer to that goal. She just hadn't realized what she'd have to put up with in order to reach it.

"Deal." Amanda agreed.

She wanted to look more like a grown woman, like one of the Hamptons elite. It didn't mean she had to become one of them. Just the opposite, in fact.

Marie smiled. "All right, let's get started."

Marie swept Amanda through the shop, her expert eye picking out pieces that would make her look elegant and more mature, crafting the very image Amanda strived for. Now that Marie could interact with her up close, she was able to size her correctly and make more informed judgements. More flattering cuts to Amanda's frame and colors that would add contrast against her fair skin and hair.

Similar to Amanda's first visit to the boutique, Marie agreed to send the clothes up to Nolan's house and let Amanda wear the outfit they'd put together out of the store.

Marie fluttered around Amanda, having more fun than she should in dressing up her latest project. "Here, this necklace and...yes, this is perfect, this bracelet." Marie steered Amanda to a trifold mirror. "Have a look, what do you think?"

Amanda studied herself in the mirror. Nude wedges were on her feet, her legs clad in muted red patterned cigarette pants, topped with a white blouse with gold accents. Marie had passed her a few pieces of jewelry to complete the look. "I look...different." She took it all in, and smiled. "I look great! Thank you."

Marie beamed at her. "You can wear it out, walk right into that beach club like you own the place."

"Maybe someday I will." Amanda joked. "Thank you so much for your help."

"My pleasure. You're with Mr. Ross through the summer, right?"

"Yes. I'm staying with him until...just until things settle down and get back to normal." Amanda said. She knew Nolan had spun the tale that they were cousins and she was staying with him due to some trouble with her parents, a vague yet familiar enough story that no one would question. Amanda didn't mind playing along with the story, it was a white lie worlds more palatable than the truth.

For one mad moment, Amanda wanted to tell Marie her real name, who she really was. Not Miss Thorne, not Nolan's wayward cousin.

Amanda Clarke, daughter of the terrorist behind 197.

Amanda held her tongue, she knew all too well what Marie's reaction would be. Disgust. Anger. Violence.

Marco wasn't the only person who had lost someone that day, but even if Marie hadn't lost a soul, she was just another of the millions who saw her father as a monster and his daughter as a deserving target.

Marie smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, I understand that. You know, I had a wild streak when I was a teenager but you seem like you're ready to turn things around, starting with this new look."

"You have no idea!" Amanda said, thinking she was clever. "Thank you so much, Marie. I really appreciate your help."

"This is the best part of my job, Miss Thorne. Now go on, you two have a fun lunch. I'll send the rest up to the house."

Amanda took a final look at herself in the shop mirror. She did look older, and thought that if she wore more makeup and styled her hair differently she might even pass for 18.

Rather than go straight to the club to find Nolan, Amanda decided to take a lap around the block and circle back. She wanted to take her new look for a walk. It was a bright late summer afternoon, there were plenty of people in town to see. Amanda tried to fall in with small clusters of people in their late teens and early twenties, hoping to fit in, to overhear they way they spoke to each other and what they talked about. She studied the women as closely as she could without being caught staring. She observed the blondes to see how they did their makeup and hair. She studied how the couples interacted.

Amanda turned around and headed back toward the club where Nolan was waiting. Someone bumped into her and Amanda looked up into a handsome face. Soft brown eyes met hers and he smiled. "Hi."

Amanda felt her throat close up and then gave him an awkward smile without saying anything. For all that she was dressed as a mature young woman, she was a long way off from becoming one of the man-eating femme fatales she'd started to idolize.

"Jack, you coming?" Another boy called.

The boy, Jack, turned and fell back in with his group of friends, skateboarders headed down to the pier.

Amanda watched them skate away and then she continued walking down the street. She didn't allow herself to imagine going with them on a skateboard of her own, of having innocent friendships, of just being a kid again. That part of her life was over. It had been torn from her, but it was more than that. Amanda had chosen to close that chapter, to move on to something else. Something more complicated and dangerous and bigger than the lure of a return to her innocence.

She couldn't go back to that even if she wanted to.

So, Amanda looked ahead, both down the street and toward her future.

* * *

Amanda found the beach club Nolan had mentioned and stepped inside, where she was immediately approached by the hostess. She guessed she was maybe in her early twenties, her hair and makeup done flawlessly. Amanda was dressed perfectly, but she was conscious that her plain side braid and bare face was somewhat substandard.

Well, everything would come in time.

"Welcome to Seaside, are you alone for lunch?"

Amanda felt her throat tighten again, but forced herself to speak like a woman would, particularly like a woman who truly belonged in a place like this.

"No, I'm meeting Nolan Ross."

The hostess's eyes widened. "Oh, yes ma'am! Mr. Ross said he was expecting someone to join him. If you'll please follow me right this way."

Amanda released the breath she'd been holding and followed the hostess over to the bar where Nolan was nursing a cocktail and lounging at a high table. He had been waiting on her to join him for awhile and now he knew what had taken so long - Marie had worked her fashion magic on Amanda, taking his sullen little sidekick and turning her into a confident young lady without overdoing things. He should never have worried.

His eyes widened when he saw her and stood at her approach. "Hey, look at you!" He took her hand and kissed it right there in front of everyone, making Amanda blush red as a lobster. "Did you buy out the whole store?"

Amanda laughed, "Just about!"

Nolan nodded his approval. That saleswoman was more than earning his business, Amanda looked great. Nude wedges on her feet, patterned cigarette pants, a white blouse with gold accents. Amanda was even wearing jewelry, two thin gold necklaces and a bracelet. Her clothes looked sharp but he was more impressed at the change in _her_. Amanda usually kept to herself when they came into town but now she was open, bright and confident.

"Money well spent, then. Want a cocktail?"

"I-"

"Don't answer that, it was a trick question! You're not drinking anything stronger than a ginger ale."

Amanda rolled her eyes at his teasing and took a seat across from him at the high table.

From there they had a very pleasant lunch - all eyes were on them and for once, Nolan was sharing the spotlight.

* * *

Once back to Nolan's house, Amanda went through the Rosehill package and put away all the clothes, feeling more than content with her choices. Marie had been so helpful, paid her such close attention in the shop and even included notes in the package on which items best paired together.

Nolan was working upstairs, so Amanda knew he'd be tied up with his project for at least another hour. Still, Amanda locked her bedroom door as she stripped down and put on one outfit after another, trying everything and looking herself over in the mirror, assessing herself with a newly critical eye.

She never cared before, but everything had changed. She didn't have the luxury of blissful ignorance any longer, she wasn't a child. She wanted to build herself into a woman. Amanda replaced all the clothes in the closet and stood in her underwear, looking herself over in the mirror. Her body was all right, she supposed. She and David had made a habit of jogging two miles a few times a week, and Nolan had invented their game of _Fruit Laps_ where she would swim laps for a reward of fruit. Lots of cardio with a healthy diet and the result was a lanky frame with hardly a spare bit of fat. Amanda had dim memories of her mother, but she knew the woman had been slender, so Amanda assumed she would be built about the same once she was a woman.

Strange, distant thoughts were echoing in the back of her mind. When the time came, it wouldn't be enough that she was slender or well-dressed. When the time came she had to be perfect, she had to be phenomenal. Ruthless. Brutal.

Amanda shook her head, put her jeans and shirt back on, then went into the bathroom where she looked over the few pieces of makeup she had.

She'd hardly used any of it, aside from the powder that she'd realized too late was a shade too dark. A cheap strawberry gloss she liked, a black mascara that was too harsh with her natural coloring. She needed to adjust her makeup just as she'd adjusted her wardrobe. Another trip to town would be necessary, but even if she wore all the makeup in the world it wouldn't help if her skin was still so blemished.

Amanda sat on the bathroom counter, poked and squeezed at her pimples, wincing as she popped the largest of the group. She dabbed at it with a tissue and smeared Neosporin over the spot. It would scab, it might scar. She looked then at her eyebrows and thought they were too bushy, her lips too thin, her nose too big.

Amanda looked at herself in the mirror and assessed her every flaw. It was a strange moment. She felt as if she'd only just recognized the face staring back from the glass as being her own. David had always called her pretty but Amanda was seeing the result of so much stress and her own hormones written all over her face.

 _I didn't know I was this ugly._

Inside, Amanda reached for her anchor - the solid, hopeful end to all of this: the vision of her father, Nolan and Amanda herself, the three of them, leaving the nightmares behind and starting a brilliant new life together. This anchor, her ultimate fantastic goal, it grounded her and forced her to focus. The future was laid out before her, and Amanda saw the way forward into that future.

It would take everything she had.

Things were falling into place in Amanda's mind: Nolan could be persuaded to take her to a dermatologist to clear her skin, Marie would help her learn about fashion, Amanda would increase her fitness and learn how to style her own hair and makeup...and all of this seemingly harmless knowledge would feed into building the dangerous woman she wanted to become.

The woman who would expose Americon Initiative.


	12. Chapter 12

Amanda stretched her arms and watched the sky flow in bright swirls of pink, orange and light blue as the sun breeched the horizon. She had made new habits for herself. She woke while it was still dark and the house was quiet, Nolan sound asleep in his room upstairs.

A few times she'd come out to find the man asleep on the living room couch with a game controller still in his hand; Amanda would smile to see him like that, he was still such a kid. In those moments, Amanda felt that they were reversed - she the guardian and Nolan her precious ward. She would turn off his game and put a blanket over him, daring to kiss his forehead while he slept. Gratitude for his protection and an emerging facet of her love for him that went beyond friendship.

She would leave the house and head down to the shore where she would wait for the sun. Then, Amanda would run.

Ever generous, Nolan had bought her several pairs of running shoes and more gym clothes than she knew what to do with, all because she'd asked. Amanda put them to good use. Every morning, thinking she was so sly, Amanda would slip out of the house and run two miles on the shore. David had already had Amanda running two miles with him a few times a week, she was only extending that habit now.

She would run a mile down the beach and then run the same mile back to Nolan's house. Being so early in the morning, the beach was always empty. Amanda found she craved this time alone on the shore; everything was so quiet, save for the ebb and flow of the waves and calling of the gulls as they woke for the day.

If Nolan found out she was out alone like this, he would scold her in the name of safety, but Amanda had thought of that and taken a knife from the kitchen, just in case. She always took it with her, but the most that she had seen so far in the weeks of her early running habit had been a woman walking her dog. The dog had barked at her and the woman had waved and that had been it.

In addition to the running, Amanda swam more and challenged herself to become more flexible. She want to be stronger, faster.

To what end, she couldn't say.

She just knew she had to be _better._

* * *

Nolan lounged by the pool, cat-napping to the distant sound of the waves below and the closer sound of water sloshing in his pool. He opened an eye to watch as Amanda coursed back and forth. This wasn't part their game, she had given up on _Fruit Laps_. She had taken it on herself these last few weeks to swim no less than twenty laps a day.

The girl had become quite the little athlete. She swam everyday, Nolan had caught her doing handstands and what looked like yoga in various places all throughout the house and she ran on the beach - though that part Amanda had kept to herself. Nolan knew all about it, of course, but he would let her go on thinking she was outsmarting him by sneaking out so early in the mornings.

Denise had told him her increase in exercise was a good thing; Amanda was taking more control of her free time and getting plenty of fresh air. So long as she was eating and didn't become obsessive, then there wasn't much to worry about. Nothing more than usual, at least.

Still, Nolan kept a close eye.

From what he could see, Amanda was bored out of her mind and filling the time as best she could. It was late in the summer and school would be back in session sooner or later. That was a cause for concern. 197 and her time in Millhouse had cut into her school, she hadn't gotten to graduate middle school. In everything that had happened over the summer, Nolan hadn't spared a thought toward Amanda's education. He had to address that, it'd be her freshman year in high school. A big milestone in her life and David wouldn't be there to see it.

Still, the conversation needed to be had. For all Nolan was managing as Amanda's guardian, he was no parent.

Maybe David had an answer for him. He would ask during their next visit.

* * *

Nolan watched as Amanda disappeared into the ravenous crowd of teenage girls in a makeup boutique. She had asked for another shopping trip in town, and Nolan had no reason to deny her. After the success of their last time in town where Amanda had emerged from the Rosehill Boutique as more a young woman than the girl she was, he was agreeable to her plea to shop for makeup.

Again, Nolan wasn't up on makeup, but he would allow it so long as Amanda still looked presentable when it was all said and done. No bright red lips, false lashes or garish blue shadow - he didn't know David's stance on Amanda wearing makeup, but he figured David wouldn't have objected to a natural look, had he been there.

So, Amanda slipped into the crowd in search of one of the store makeup artists to guide her, and they had agreed that she would meet Nolan at his favored beach club.

Favored for more than just their cocktails and calamari, Nolan had found it was a veritable hub of Hamptons gossip.

He nursed a drink from his place at the bar and scanned the area, looking for one of the high Hamptons crowd. More specifically, a lonely housewife. Sex was the last thing on Nolan's mind, but today he was intent to charm his way into a woman's good graces in return for information.

The Graysons had fled the Hamptons just after 197 without a word to their whereabouts. Nolan was sure that Victoria had either told one of her friends where the family was headed, or she had made contact in the months since. A woman like her couldn't just disappear. If he couldn't find out about Victoria then he would go after Conrad. Really either Grayson would do because he was sure they were together, but Nolan was sure that Victoria was the key.

If he could get a lead on where they were then he might be able to find out if they were behind this nightmare.

 _Ah._

Not ten minutes in the beach club and he found his mark. Catherine DenMark. A merry-widow and still a stunner at 56, she reminded Nolan of a red-headed Christie Brinkley. She was also lonely since her husband's death, very friendly and a bit of a lush. All things that Nolan could work to his advantage.

Despite spending his early life hiding behind the stacks in school libraries and later, behind computer screens and miles of code, Nolan had come out in a number of ways. He wasn't afraid to stand up for himself any longer, and he had grown in his confidence as a man. He had David to thank for that.

Nolan gulped down the last of his drink and gestured to the bartender that he would take another, but that he would take it at the lady's table. He stood and smoothed the front of his shirt, then his hair, and approached Catherine. It had been more than a minute since he'd seriously flirted with a woman - he had Marco to thank for that - but it wasn't as if it was much different than when charming a man. Nolan only had to remind himself of what was at stake.

Catherine had a wineglass at her table and that morning's crossword puzzle before her, but even from the bar Nolan had been able to see how bored she was, sitting there alone. She missed her husband, Nolan understood that all too well. He sidled up and took a quick look over her shoulder. "It's 'talon'." Nolan said.

Catherine turned around and smiled when she recognized him, but was still confused at what he'd said. "I'm sorry?"

"13 down. A 5 letter word for a raptor's foot. Try 'talon'." He said, gesturing to her crossword.

Catherine turned and filled it in, smiling when it fit the puzzle. "Look at that! You were right."

"Happy to help, do you mind if I sit?"

The woman smiled again and nodded. "Have a seat, I guess I owe you one now."

The bartender came with Nolan's drink and departed just as quickly. He shook his head, "No, Catherine you don't owe me anything."

"You know me?" She seemed genuinely surprised. Despite attending several of the same high-profile functions, they hadn't officially met.

Well.

No time like the present.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? I saw you at that Spring Flight party in March, though I never had the change to introduce myself." Nolan slid into the chair across from her and extended his hand across the table.

Catherine smiled and shook his hand, "You're Nolan Ross, you don't need to introduce yourself!"

Nolan only shrugged at that. "I'm nobody special."

"Now you're just being modest. My children are all crazy about those little white music players your company makes."

Nolan shrugged again, taking on the carefree affect he usually reserved for interviews. "Trust me, those music players are nothing compared to the cell phones I have in the works. If you don't have any NolCorp stock, now's the time to buy."

She raised a brow at him, flirting a bit. "I always appreciate a hot tip."

"Mmm, that's what I've heard. So, are you staying through the summer?"

"I...I think so. My children are all over the place in the summer but they always come back to home base here in the Hamptons."

"Not a bad set-up for you, then. House to yourself for the most part, but you get to see the kids often enough when they're between trips." Catherine was giving Nolan plenty to work with here.

"Oh, well my _kids_ as you call them, they might only be a few years older than you!" Catherine chided him.

"Why, Ms. DenMark, are you accusing me of being a young man?"

"Mr. Ross, you're practically a boy!"

"Even a boy can appreciate a beautiful woman." He winked. "I saw you from the bar and had to come over to talk."

"Careful, you'll make me blush." Her warning rang true, Nolan could see her cheeks warming. Catherine was deeply enjoying this flirty exchange; she knew this was nothing serious, that Nolan was just making conversation, but it felt nice to be noticed nonetheless. Since her husband's accident she had come to feel like she was somehow invisible, Nolan coming over to talk was a pleasant surprise.

As for Nolan himself, he quashed whatever guilt rose in him over this exchange. On the whole, he was a decent man but he had never been above using whatever manipulations he could to get ahead. Flirting to gain information was the least of his sins.

"Can't have that, now can we? So, your kids are traveling all summer and you're sticking around the Hamptons, why is that?"

"Well...to tell the truth, I haven't travelled at all since 197. Flying always made me nervous before, but now? You couldn't pay me to get on a plane - I light a candle and say a prayer every time one of my children announce their plans to travel."

"I'm with you, I've been planted here since 197 and I'm sure you heard I've suspended operations in my city office, probably for another few weeks. My employees are afraid to come back to work, and who can blame them? Americon Initiative warned that 197 was just the start."

"Everything seems to come back to _them_ , doesn't it? Americon Initiative. Whoever they are, these faceless cowards, I hope they all get exposed and arrested." Catherine said, and really, that was the least she could say about those people. She thanked God every morning that her children had been safe that day, but she had learned that one of her old friends from high school hadn't been so lucky; he had been on the street and been hit with debris from the crash. It was a strange thing to be glad that Charles wasn't here with her to see how everything had been turned on its head. "It's all so horrible, it's changed the whole world. But here in the Hamptons, this is home for me now. This is the only place that feels safe anymore."

Nolan seized on that. "Not everyone shares that sentiment, I heard the Graysons took off right after."

"Oh, well you're right about that!" Catherine took a healthy gulp of her drink and leaned in closer to him, confiding. "I called Victoria the day it happened. After I checked in with the kids and made sure they were all safe, I just didn't want to be alone with that horror on the news. I called over to the Graysons and their housekeeper told me the whole family had already gone away."

"Gone away _where?"_ He pressed. Nolan wasn't even concerned about being too obvious at this point, Catherine was enjoying his company too much to notice him guiding the conversation.

Catherine gestured to the bartender for another drink, which arrived at their table in a flash - she was well known for her very generous tips to waitstaff. "That's the strange thing, Victoria hadn't told me of any travel plans she had for the summer but she just called me last week. They're all safe and sound in the Caribbean."

Nolan had figured as much, that they had fled to a typical stronghold of the rich. Still, the Caribbean was a big place...

"Oh, gone hiding in St. Martin have they?"

"Ha, better than St. Martin, they have their own private island!" Catherine said with a quick giggle. "It's supposedly part of the company holdings, but the Graysons use it like it's their home away from home. And Victoria never lets any of us forget it." Catherine added under her breath as she looked down at the bottom of her glass.

It was a strange thing to resent a woman she called her friend, but Catherine had been immersed in this crowd long enough. There were no true friends in these high circles of women, just an endless rotation of acquaintances that would turn on each other with the slightest breeze. She had been a part of it, this gaggle of overgrown mean girls, for so long. Too long. It had taken the death of her husband and a horrific act of terrorism to wake her up and see how toxic it all was.

As a result, she had isolated herself for a time to reflect on things.

Nolan didn't know any of that, of course. He only knew that she had just pointed him in the right direction. "Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't. I've met her, and _Queen of the_ _Hamptons_ is the perfect nickname."

"Trust me, you don't know the half of it."

"I've heard the rumors, I - oh!" Nolan had glanced up and seen a familiar face at the front of the restaurant. "You'll have to excuse me, Catherine. Speaking of kids, mine just walked in."

The woman almost spat her wine. "What! Since when are you a father?"

" _Father_ is a bridge too far. See that girl at the front?" Nolan gestured toward Amanda at the door. "She's my cousin, visiting for the summer. Given everything going on, her family thought the Hamptons would be good for her. I mean, nothing ever happens out here, does it?"

The irony in that statement wasn't lost on either of them - oh, the things they'd seen.

Catherine smiled. "Thank you for visiting with me, Nolan. Since my husband passed, it's been...well, it was nice to have someone to talk to for a little while."

Nolan was not made of stone.

"Would you care to join us for lunch?"

"That's all right, I wouldn't want to impose. I ought to get going anyway." She squeezed his hand in gratitude. "You two have a nice afternoon. And thank you again, for the company."

"It won't be the last time, Catherine."

Nolan watch with appreciation as she walked away and let himself feel a little better about having taken advantage of her for a spell. Looking over to Amanda, he knew it was worth it. She smiled as she crossed the club floor and slid into the seat across from him. Nolan studied her face and was glad to see that she hadn't gone overboard with her makeup. "You look great! How did it go?"

"Really well! I found a makeup artist to help me, she picked out all the right colors for me and told me the best lotions to use and she...uh, Nolan she said she could recommend a dermatologist." Amanda said, embarrassed to call attention to the curse of all teenagers, her acne.

Nolan understood at once. He had been there, but at her age he hadn't had any resources to help himself outside of endlessly washing his face with Clearasil. He was glad that Amanda was finally feeling comfortable enough to ask him for things, he would get her anything she wanted.

"No problem, I'll make you an appointment for tomorrow."

"Thank you Nolan!"

"Although, with that makeup, you can hardly tell you would need any help in that department." What he said was true, Amanda looked pretty as a picture and even better, she looked like herself, not like she'd tried painting on a new face.

"As I said, the makeup artist was very good. The store sent everything to the house."

He raised a brow. "Everything? What all did you get?"

"Ah, well..."

Amanda began to list out everything the makeup artist had insisted she'd need to create a variety of looks: concealer, foundation, powder, shadow and lip gloss for her everyday look, a tinted moisturizer with SPF for when she worked out, a colorful shadow palette for when she went out-

Nolan waved her off, "All right, all right, I get the picture. She up-sold you on a ton, but hey, you look lovely, my dearest young lady, so give me a cheers!" Nolan raised his drink, to which Amanda raised her own glass of ginger ale.

Amanda sipped her soda and was very content to share lunch with Nolan, feeling more and more comfortable by the moment. She was dressed in another of Marie's perfect outfits and her makeup, while natural, did make her look more mature. It was earning her attention she wasn't ready for.

"Don't look now but your new look has earned you a fan." Nolan said quietly.

"Huh?"

"The bartender is looking at you."

Amanda immediately turned around to see the bartender look away a split second after they made eye contact.

"Smooth, Amanda." Nolan laughed.

"Was he really looking?"

"Yes. And I know he's cute but don't get any ideas, he's 25 if he's a day - that's not happening." He said firmly.

"I wouldn't try to, to...I don't care about that!"

"Good. We have more important things to focus on. Our next visit to Lockhart is coming up, and Denise has finally made some inroads with David's defense team."

Amanda looked around, nervous they would be overheard, and responded in a low voice. "Is there anything she can tell us about what they have planned or when the trial date will be?"

"Fingers crossed, yes. They expect the trial will start next summer. Both sides are getting ready, getting all the evidence they can. I know you probably don't remember the O.J. Simpson trial, but this is so much bigger. This trial will be global."

The pair picked at their lunch for a bit, sipping at their drinks. Amanda slipped away to the ladies room and looked at herself in the mirror. The clothes on her body and the makeup on her face did make her look more mature, and she nodded at her reflection, satisfied. Nolan knew better but anyone who looked her way might assume her an adult - the bartender already had.

It was a good start.

Amanda reapplied her lipstick and took a deep breath, content.

She was well on her way to becoming the woman she wanted to be.

* * *

Following his chat with Catherine, Nolan took to his laptop that night and for many nights following.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for yet, but he knew where to start.

There was too great a risk in hacking a major corporation. Grayson Global's firewalls had firewalls. He had a lead; it would take a touch longer to find what he was looking for, doing it this way, but Nolan wanted to find the family rather than go through company records. He wanted to hear their words, gain some insight into what they knew.

David had voiced his suspicions, but he didn't know anything for sure. He was just a patsy for the bastards of the Initiative. Maybe the Graysons were in the same boat, being coerced in some way. It was possible, but Nolan had his doubts.

Those doubts were the reason why he was doing this rather than launching a digital attack into Grayson Global's files.

This was personal.

Nolan's fingers flew over the keyboard, entering commands while simultaneously covering all hint of his digital footprints. He was a master hacker and a genius at coding, but he was only a man - if anyone of authority looked at him with suspicion or traced his activity, then he'd be in a cell right next to David. That couldn't happen. Nolan wasn't built for hard time and if he went away, then who would look after the girl?

He had to appear pure as the driven snow, which is why he left both Denise and Amanda out of the loop when it came to this. The fewer people who knew about this, the better. What they didn't know, they couldn't perjure themselves with if this ever came out in court.

If Nolan played his cards right, then it never would.

So, with several more keystrokes, and several hundred thousand feet above their heads, a NolCorp satellite tilted ever so slightly in space, narrowing its focus to the Caribbean sea. To a tiny island. To an estate on that island.

He locked in the command and set an automatic recorder. From there it became a part of his nightly routine. Just before bed, he would listen in on the Grayson family.

Endless, mindless talk between Conrad and Victoria, Victoria and the estate staff, Conrad and his vacationing golf buddies, young Daniel and his constant whining for a dog.

It took weeks before something interesting was finally said.

Hours and hours of listening in on the Graysons and Nolan never heard any admission of a connection to Americon Initiative or of having had a hand in 197. Either they were innocent or they were being careful. What Nolan did hear, however, was a bombshell, something that had come to Nolan as totally unexpected. A shock in the middle of all this insanity.

Victoria Grayson was pregnant.


	13. Chapter 13

Nolan did not share what he'd learned with Amanda. Yes, he had made an agreement toward partnership with her but in this he chose discretion. Surely David deserved to know before her, and David should dictate whether Amanda should even know at all. So, Nolan kept quiet on Victoria's condition and went on as he always had with the girl, being her guardian and friend. They played on the shore, took turns cooking dinner, went into town and took long drives all throughout the Hamptons. Amanda loved riding in his BMW with the top down - her hair was always a disaster once they returned home but the girl never failed to smile.

Sometimes they would make their way down to the firepit on the beach, each of them sitting on a log of the sun-bleached driftood that surrounded it; Nolan would tell her his ideas for NolCorp's next big thing, Amanda would tell him about whatever spy novel she was reading. Nolan hadn't picked up on her interest in espionage, and Amanda was spared having to confide in him her drive to be the one to expose the Initiative. It was a deep, driving desire inside of her that was growing by the day. Perhaps even greater than her need for her father to be free, Amanda craved revenge.

Nolan was well aware of how this nightmare had derailed Amanda's life, but he was unaware that a secret self had been born of her anguish.

Of all the people Amanda would come to deceive, Nolan was the first.

* * *

The summer was drawing to an end in the Hamptons.

It was still warm and the days were still long, but it was more an unspoken sense of things. A feeling of readiness to wake from summer dreams and return to one's real life. There were less and less people in town as the tourists returned to whatever corner of the country they came from; there were only a few society parties left on the docket, though none of them would expect Nolan Ross to attend.

He had been busy over the summer, and Amanda busy beside him.

She spent her days in one form of exercise or another, while Nolan spent his nights hunting for evidence of a Grayson connection to Americon Initiative.

So far he had come up empty-handed. Could it be that he was just chasing his tail with this? David had told him next to nothing, provided no proof that the Graysons had had a hand in 197 and his imprisonment. All he had were his suspicions and David was hardly objective here. Nolan had to clench his jaw every time he thought of it, the idiotic selfishness of David to engage in an affair with another man's wife, carrying on in the same house where Amanda slept, the both of them getting some sick dirty thrill out of it each time Victoria strolled between houses in the dark like a stray cat in heat.

It was petty of him to be judgemental, Nolan knew.

God knew he'd done his fair share of chasing sex before he'd settle down with Marco, but he was young and childless - the world was open to him in a way that it shouldn't have been to David, who should have acted more like a man and less like a damned horny teenager with his first girlfriend. He struggled not to openly blame this on David; he knew the man had had nothing to do with 197, it was plain that the Initiative had framed him up for the horror and the why of it all was still a mystery.

Could it all be down to Conrad Grayson being spiteful over his wife's affair?

Nolan still rejected the idea.

197 was too complicated, too gruesome and too monumental an event to be centered around one woman. Nolan knew there had to be more, and he itched to speak with David again.

* * *

Finally the day came.

Lockhart visitation day. Amanda had been counting the days since their last visit, obsessively crossing off the days on her calendar until she could speak with David again. She wanted to show off how she was dressing and how well she could do her makeup; she wanted her father to know she wasn't a child any longer, and, in a flash of strange defiant cruelty, she wanted him to see that his little girl was _gone_. She was a young woman now, not that scared weak thing she had been the night he was arrested. Amanda was trying so hard to put distance from who she had been that night and the woman she wanted to become.

Still, she would always be a girl who loved her father.

Amanda leapt up from her chair to hug him as he was brought into the room, lost herself for precious moments in his arms, absorbing his warmth, his strength. There was never enough time in this sterile room. David complimented her more grown-up look, told her she looked lovely. Amanda took hold of her father's hands over the cold surface of the metal table, thanking him and telling all about her time with Nolan - reassuring him that Nolan was feeding her enough, that she was safe and very well taken care of.

All too soon, the guards knocked on the door, signalling that their time together was at an end.

After Amanda gave her loving goodbyes to David, Nolan wasted no time in sliding into her chair and breaking the news.

"Nolan-"

"Victoria is pregnant."

Nolan could see the effect of his words on David was like a punch in the gut. David's eyes were wide and he gasped out the question, "She's... _what?"_

Nolan glanced at the clock on the wall. They didn't have a moment to waste. "Pregnant! I found out where the Graysons went after 197 and used a NolCorp satellite to listen in on their estate."

"I don't...Nolan, isn't that illegal?"

Nolan rolled his eyes. "David we are _way_ past illegal at this point, all right? Besides, it never stopped the NSA."

David could hear his friend's words, but there was a loud, sudden buzzing noise over everything he said. It made Nolan sound so far away, so muffled. Victoria was _pregnant?_ It couldn't be, not now, not while he was trapped here in this hell! He sank his face into his hands, sure he would collapse under the weight of this new truth. "This can't be happening. She can't be. God, and for her to be this far along..."

The math would put her at about five months if it was their last night together that had gotten her with his child. It was too late for her to terminate the pregnancy, clearly Victoria meant to keep it.

Nolan leaned in. "It could be Conrad's. I never actually heard her say it was yours."

David swiped at his eyes, hating the world for what his life had become. Victoria, pregnant with his child, a child he may never meet.

 _God, there has to be a way..._

"It has to be mine. She and I, we talked about it. When their divorce was final and we were ready to start a life of our own, just us..." David told him. He felt gutted, drained of hope. For a flash he hated Nolan for telling him this. Just the idea of Victoria carrying his child was a torture.

Nolan tried to wrap his head around this. "You, Victoria...and a new baby?"

"Yes! But not so soon, this wasn't supposed to happen until we had gotten away from everything and started our life together."

"Listen, we may be getting ahead of things here. The baby could be Conrad's-"

David shook his head, "No, Victoria doesn't love him, she never did. After Daniel she never wanted another child with him but for her to be this far along, she means to keep it - it's mine, our child, it has to be."

Nolan clenched his jaw. He was starting to see Victoria's game; it could be David's baby but it was likely that she had slept with Conrad soon after she found out about her pregnancy so that she could claim the baby belonged to her husband. That is, if she hadn't been sleeping with both men all along. Either way, the truth would never be revealed if David remained in jail. Perhaps this was all by Victoria's design.

"David...this baby, whether it's yours or not...it doesn't matter!"

"Doesn't matter? It's my child! How can you say it doesn't matter?"

Nolan made a calming gesture with his hands. "What I'm saying is, whether it's your bun or Conrad's bun in her oven, it won't matter if you're still in here, framed up for 197."

"I know. You're right. God, Victoria's having my baby and I'm trapped here." This was a nightmare, truly. David prided himself as a father and now, to know that he had a child he may never meet, a child that would be raised a Grayson...

Nolan frowned at David's defeated expression. Maybe he should've kept quiet about this, but how could he have kept such a secret from his friend? He looked to the clock again, it was barely a minute now. He would bribe the guards but news of wealth would spread like fire and his identity would be revealed. Denise had been crystal clear in the need for Nolan to put distance between his name and David Clarke.

"David...what should I tell Amanda? About the baby, I mean." Nolan urged the man for an answer. He had been sitting on this secret for weeks; he had agreed to be her partner, for better and for worse. Since Amanda had been so determined to force the agreement with him, Nolan would have to oblige her by treating her as an equal.

David hung his head and put his face in his hands. The ground was swaying under his feet. "...I don't know...tell her if you want, Nolan. I've already ruined her life, this is just the icing on the cake."

Nolan reached across the table and took David's hands. "You didn't ruin her life, David, this isn't your fault. Amanda believes in you, she knows you're innocent. We'll get through this, all of us. I'll keep digging, I promise you I'll never stop and you know I'll do anything it takes to keep Amanda safe."

David squeezed Nolan's hands in gratitude. "Thank you, Nolan. God, you've come a long way, haven't you?"

Nolan laughed at that, but there was no humor behind his smile. "I think we all have, it's been one hell of a summer."

* * *

Nolan didn't say anything to Amanda about what he and David had discussed during their visit. The girl was always so happy after seeing her father, Nolan didn't want to steal that happiness away from her. Better to let her ride the wave and tell her when the time was right, whenever that might be.

After seeing David they split a pizza at the house and walked the shore, Amanda impressing him by doing cartwheels in the sand. She invited Nolan to try it, but he was no gymnast. Dinner was the remainder of their pizza, heated in the oven and enjoyed outside in the backyard. Nolan had carried through with his suggestion of a telescope and they often took turns looking at the moon, Venus and the stars.

He reclined in his deck chair and allowed himself to feel content. He'd grown used to life here in the Hamptons and more than that, he liked it. Not the circumstances that had led them here, of course, nor the loss of Marco, but this; the simple routines that Nolan and Amanda had developed and the friendship that had grown deeper between them, Nolan liked it very much.

It wouldn't last, he knew. Sooner or later, David would be found innocent and naturally Amanda would return to her father. Nolan hoped it would be soon - it wasn't right that David and Amanda should be separated, a family should be together. It was only right. Nolan didn't know where that would leave him. Certainly Marco wouldn't come back home - there hadn't been a word exchanged between them since the night he left. He would go back to the city, he supposed. Not to the apartment. No. Too many happy memories of his old life were in that place. Life before 197, when everything had been love at home and thrilling challenge at work.

Nolan couldn't go back to that. He'd find another place to call home in the city, make new memories and find someone to make them with. He would always be close to David and Amanda, but they would separate to make their own lives.

Until then, Nolan would let himself be content with life as it was. Looking after Amanda, caring for her, it gave him a sense of purpose and put his priorities into perspective. Months ago, he'd been ready to propose to Marco because he'd known he was ready to commit and he had finally found love. Love was caring for someone, putting their needs and comfort before your own. It was the same with Amanda. He wouldn't be proposing but he would fall on a sword to protect that girl. That was love. Different than the love he still carried for Marco but no less real.

"Nolan, I found it."

"Hmm?" He opened an eye, not sure when he'd nodded off.

"I found Venus." Amanda told him as she marked the coordinates in the astronomy book he'd given her.

Nolan got up and took a look, seeing it clearly in the lens. Amanda had found she enjoyed tracking what planets and constellations she could, and her interest had sparked an idea in Nolan: an application that could do the same from a cell phone. It would take no effort from the end user and relatively simple, given that all mobiles carried GPS. Nolan would make sure that Amanda received the credit and the proceeds from the app.

 _Hmm._ Amanda being involved in business.

Now there was an idea.

* * *

"Nolan where are we going?"

"We're going to go check out a small investment opportunity." Nolan cocked his head down the pier, toward a squat building at the end of the strip.

 **The Stowaway Bar & Grill**

"The Stowaway? It's a bar."

"Look at you, reading the big words!" He cheered her. "Yes, Amanda, it's a bar. A bar with serious problems that will tank the place unless a certain someone swoops in with an influx of cash."

"And that certain someone is you."

Nolan shook his head. "Nope, the certain someone is _you."_

"Me? How? I don't have any money." Amanda said. Everything she had, down to the lint in the bottom of her pockets, Nolan had bought her.

"You do, actually. David put most of his money in a trust for you, not to mention all of his NolCorp stock has been put in your name while he's been away. I ought to call you Millionaire Mandy." He nudged her with his elbow.

It seemed her father had been doing a lot of things behind Amanda's back. "I never knew about any of this."

"Well, you were never meant to have access to any of these funds until you were an adult but then this whole mess happened and it triggered automatic transfers. Think of it like an insurance policy. Everything was stripped from David as a way to limit his options if he were to get out of jail and tried to flee the country."

"If they let him out of jail for only a day, I'd flee the country with him." Amanda said, and pictured a life on the run with her father. To be free, away from all this, would be well worth abandoning her life here. Being both a pawn and a ward, Amanda didn't have much of a life to abandon. She couldn't start building a life for herself until she was a few years older, but to learn that there was a massive cache set aside for her...

"How do I access any of it? I don't even have an ID yet."

"No worries on that, I'll make sure you have full access once you're 18." Nolan reassured.

"Why not now?"

Nolan had the nerve to laugh at her. "Why doesn't a thirteen year old have full access to millions in cash and assets? You're seriously asking me that question?"

"I'm not thirteen." She snapped.

"Yes you are..." Embarrassed realization dawned in his eyes as he recalled her birthdate. "Wait, oh my God. Amanda, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot!"

"It's all right."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know. It didn't seem important." She purposefully hadn't mentioned the passing of her birthday to him. She hadn't wanted Nolan to make a big event of it, she didn't want anything but her father and David was the only thing Nolan couldn't give her.

"A birthday is always important. Fourteen isn't a landmark year but we could have done something special. I would've gotten you a present."

"I didn't need a birthday present, you've already given me way more than I could ever need." That was true, Nolan was spoiling her rotten. Most of their days were spent at the house, but every week Nolan would bring her to town where he would let her have whatever she wanted - new clothes and shoes, makeup and her nails done, books and things for her room, a trip to the dermatologist that had already reduced her acne, and every new NolCorp gadget on the market. After shopping he would take her to eat at either the beach club or another restaurant, both showing off to be seen and watching other people.

"Well, we could've gone out for a nice dinner in the city, done something special. We'll make up for it later, I promise. But for now, your gift will be this - I've been planning on buying this bar and when I do, I'll put it in your name. Your first property."

"What - me, a bar? What would I do with it?"

"That's the beauty of it, you won't have to do anything. I buy this place and pay for all repairs, clear all debts, then once it starts turning a profit again I'll put it in your name. Your cut of the profits will filter into the money that you already have, thereby growing your fortune."

"You mean the fortune I can't touch till I turn 18?" She groused.

"Jeez are you going to be harping on that for the next four years?"

"Probably."

"Good to know," he said as he opened the door for her and followed her inside. They'd barely stepped across the threshold before they were approached by a heavyset man in his middle years, a small towel over his shoulder and an overeager smile on his face.

"Good afternoon Mr. Ross."

"Hey, none of that Mr. Ross stuff, please." Nolan shook his hand and gestured to Amanda. "Carl Porter, this is my cousin Amanda."

"Hello young lady, can I get you a drink?" He offered after shaking her hand, his grip firm and his eyes warm. "The Stowaway carries the biggest selection of whiskey and wine in all of Montauk." The man told her, and there was genuine pride in his words. He had built this business, every inch of the bar was a reflection on his efforts; he had poured everything of himself into it, and the man had run dry in the last few years. To continue providing for his family, he had to impress upon them that this business was worth saving.

Nolan shook his head and ordered for her. "The lady will have a Sprite."

"Clean living, huh? I tried it once and it didn't agree with me. One Sprite, coming right up, and your usual, Mr. Ross?"

Mr. Porter went off to get their drinks and Nolan sat across from Amanda at one of the tall tables. He frowned lightly, not sure if he liked her new look anymore. Of course he understood her want to look more mature, he wasn't far off from his own teenage years, but Nolan wasn't blind; every man in the bar had given Amanda more than a few appreciative looks. He was sure if he left her unattended at the table she'd have company within minutes, company she wouldn't know what to do with. He worried for the day Amanda realized her own feminine wiles, she'd be nigh unstoppable.

"Jeez, he thinks you're old enough to drink, I think it's time you tone down on the makeup." He told her.

Amanda was affronted at that. Truly, Nolan had no idea how much practice it had taken her to perfect her look. "My makeup is fine! He only offered a drink because you're here with me."

"Maybe. But your makeup and the growth spurt are making you look older." He'd noticed Amanda had grown in their time together, stretching her lanky frame to bring her head level with his shoulders.

Little Mandy was on her way out, obsolete, with the Amanda 2.0 rising to take her place.

"Really?"

"Don't look so happy about that. You're turning into a young woman and I'm already going gray with worry." He warned her. "Now look around, Amanda, and tell me what you see."

Amanda wasn't sure what Nolan was actually asking her. "Um...it looks like a bar."

"We both know you can do better than that." He urged her. "Look at the decor - it's rustic maritime. Look at the customers - it's a mix, but the majority are the older fishermen and dock workers. Look at the menu - plenty of beer and liquor but just a few appetizers. What do you think?"

Amanda was descendent from a brilliant businessman and born into a world where every adult in her association had a high level of business acumen. Nolan wanted to encourage more of the same in her; never too soon to think of her future.

"Um...not everyone drinks and not everyone drinks early in the day so if there was more food to choose from, then more people would come."

"Yes! What else?"

"Specials. If they gave specials then more people would come for that, new customers would tell their friends and they might turn into regulars." Amanda was following a logical line of thinking, but really she hadn't given any thought on how to bolster business. Her life up to 197 had revolved around her friends, school, her love for boy bands and her father. Everything else had seemed so far away. Now Nolan was going on about buying her this bar as a birthday present and starter property. How life could change!

"It's in the genes, Amanda, you're a businesswoman!" Nolan seemed so proud of the few ideas she'd put forth, and Amanda returned his smile.

Mr. Porter returned with their drinks and began to talk business. For all that Nolan had called her a businesswoman, the moment they started talking percentages and something called controlling interests, Amanda excused herself from the table. She said something about needing some fresh air and Nolan warned her not to stray too far.

Amanda went out and just started wandering the pier, content to be lost in her thoughts for a bit. Her shoes were pinching her feet and her stomach was growling; it was her day to cook dinner for them and she mentally catalogued what was on hand at the house. She could make a salad with grilled chicken or do a pasta dish-

"Hey."

Amanda turned to see a boy heading her way. He had brown hair and was holding a skateboard. She gave him a tentative smile, unused to being directly approached. People tried to get Nolan's attention, not hers. "Hi."

"So it's you guys who are buying our bar, huh?"

"What?"

"You and your husband."

Amanda couldn't help it, she barked out a laugh at that, "He's not my husband!"

"Your boyfriend, then." He pressed.

"Not my boyfriend either." Though recently she had had the odd daydream now and then...

The boy looked at her, then glanced over her shoulder, to the man she'd arrived with. He had seen them head into the bar, and the man was seated at a table with his father, the both of them seemingly in a serious discussion. The blonde man was older than them, but not by so much. "He's not your father."

"No, my father is - ah, away. Nolan is my cousin." Amanda told him, and she had to wonder why she was explaining herself to this random boy. She didn't owe him or anyone else an explanation, let alone the lie Nolan had spun for her protection.

"Right. So you and your _cousin_ are buying our bar."

"I don't know. I guess." Amanda shrugged. "Nolan and Mr. Porter are talking inside."

"Mr. Porter is my dad."

Amanda had figured as much. "What's your name?"

"Jack. What's yours?"

"Amanda."

They didn't shake hands, just nodded at each other. In all truth, Jack wasn't sure what to make of this girl. She was very pretty, he thought, and assumed her as either an upperclassman in high school or a freshman in college; she was about his height and had bright, buttery blonde hair that she'd braided to the side, she was wearing tight-cut jeans and a tank top under a gray hoodie. Jack had the passing thought that he wanted to see what she had under her shirt.

"So are you going to buy the bar and then shut it down?"

"No. Nolan wants to buy it and fix everything so it stays open."

"What makes you so sure?"

"That's what he told me and Nolan isn't a liar." She told him, annoyed that Jack was pressing her with his questions. "He's going to buy me your bar as a late birthday present." She added that last as something of a barb, and she hoped it stung. It was petty and mean of her to say that, of course it was, but saying it made her feel perversely powerful for a moment; Jack frowned, clearly belittled.

"Jeez. You rich people really do live differently, huh?"

Amanda gritted her teeth. She could feel it, the anger churning inside of her. She wanted to scream the truth at this boy, the truth of how her father had been framed, how she had been torn away from the only family she had, what had happened at Millhouse and how unfair it was that this boy had his father all day, everyday, and she could only see hers for twenty minutes a month.

Instead, she forced the anger down and let her resolve take its place. She thought of the woman she wanted to become. She thought of the life she would have once her father was free. She looked at the boy, this ignorant, silly kid who could barely see beyond his own skateboard, and she just shrugged. "It's not as good as you'd think."

Jack wasn't impressed by her answer. "Try it from the other side sometime, rich girl."

Amanda didn't say anything as Jack skated away. He wasn't worth arguing with now, but she had the feeling they'd be seeing more of each other.

* * *

Shortly after Jack left her, Amanda put her hood back and undid her braid, enjoying the breeze coursing through her loose hair. She wasn't doing much, just leaning on the rail and waiting for Nolan to finish up in The Stowaway. She didn't know if he was buying the bar now or still thinking about it and really she wasn't too concerned; even if Nolan bought the bar today she couldn't do anything with it.

She was more wrapped up in the thoughts of her father. David was never far from her mind, she carried him with her throughout the days. When she ran in the morning, she imagined him there with her, even racing him the last leg of her run. Her yearning so vivid, she'd once turned and looked for him, fully expecting to see David just behind her, sweating and smiling as their feet pounded the sand. Reality had crashed hard over her that morning. David hadn't been there with her. He had been taken from her, caged like an animal, framed for horror.

She had sunk to her knees and cried, screaming out her anger and frustration at the world. The waves had covered her sobs, and thankfully no one had seen. Amanda could accept that, having her moment of weakness alone. What she couldn't allow herself to accept was showing such weakness in front of others, Nolan in particular. If he saw her cry he would revert to treating her as a child, not as the woman she wanted to project.

Amanda sighed and closed her eyes, calling on her favored fantasy: the life she would share with Nolan and her father in the future. She pictured them traveling the world to all locales, both familiar and exotic. The fantasy changed depending on Amanda's mood. Being there on the marina, she pictured the three of them on a large sailboat, her father at the helm while she and Nolan lounged close together on the deck, Amanda finally the woman she strived to be, sparking lust in Nolan who reached out to touch-

"It's you!"

Amanda frowned at her fantasy being interrupted and turned around, wondering if whoever spoke was talking to her or someone else. It was a middle-aged woman with a black bob of hair, someone Amanda was sure she hadn't met. "What?"

"Amanda Clarke, it's you!" The woman lunged forward and shoved the tabloid she'd been holding into Amanda's chest, hard enough that she stumbled back a step. She glanced down for a moment and was shocked to see her own face on the paper.

"It's you, it's you! What are you doing here? Are you planning the next attack? Why are you doing this, you monster? What have these people ever done to deserve this?!"

The woman was yelling, furious tears coursing down her face, taking a step toward her with every word. Amanda kept stepping away from the woman, sudden fear pounding through her. She felt light-headed and weak, her mind too fuzzy to form the words to deny her name or take stock of her surroundings to find a way to escape.

The deranged woman was drawing attention with her screaming accusations and Amanda saw that other people were approaching them, two men and another woman nearest to them from the boardwalk. One of the men had a copy of that same tabloid, all of their eyes were narrowed on Amanda's face.

Others were coming too, more people drawn to the commotion were murmuring amongst themselves, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.  
The woman was still screaming at her, forcing her back until Amanda's back met the pier railing and she was trapped. The woman grabbed her, holding fast to Amanda's arm and shaking her as she screamed in her face, "Your father is a murderer! What do you know?! What's the Initiative's next target, tell me!"

And then, Nolan was there, breaking the woman's grip and pushing Amanda behind him, confronting the woman himself in a furious voice she couldn't even recognize in him. "Get the hell away from her!"

"Blood will tell - her father is a murderer, she'll be no better in time!"

Nolan spoke but didn't turn to Amanda, he was still facing off with the deranged woman. "Run back to the house, go!"

Amanda was trembling, terrified for him in the closing circle of people. "Nolan, don't!"

Nolan turned and shoved at her, urging her away. "I said go, now!"

His eyes shook her out of her terrified trance. Amanda bolted down the pier, thankful no one grabbed her. She pulled her hood over her head in case anyone else had one of those damned tabloids - and when the hell had her picture been taken? How had this happened? Nolan had told her he would keep her safe, they had been so careful!

Adrenaline pumped through her, making Amanda feel so strange. She felt disconnected from her own body, as if she was moving in slow motion though she knew that wasn't the case - it was four miles back to Nolan's house if she went along the road, Amanda thought that if anyone tried to follow her that's where they would look, so she moved to follow the shore instead.

She bolted but kept looking over her shoulder to see if anyone had followed. Thankfully she didn't see anyone, and no one was waiting for her once she made it to the house. She immediately locked the door behind herself and ran throughout the house, closing the blinds and making sure all the lights had been switched off. Amanda sank into the living room couch, breathing hard and feeling suddenly so drained she worried her knees would give out from beneath her. She curled into herself on the seat, wondering what was happening.

 _Oh, God, I left Nolan there with all those people! I should have fought them or done something to help him, anything but just run away!_

Panicked thoughts chased each other through her mind - Nolan being overrun by the mob on the pier, word spreading all throughout the Hamptons, the mob coming for her. What would happen? Would she be forced back to Millhouse or strung up in place of her father?

Marco had had to force himself to hold back from hurting her, and Amanda was sure he'd only restrained himself for Nolan's sake. No one else had any reason to do the same.

Amanda heard the front door open and she stood up but was too afraid to move toward the noise. Oh, God - was it _them?_

Relief crashed over her when she heard Nolan calling for her. "Amanda, are you in there? Amanda I know you're home, answer me!"

She heard him open her bedroom door and then his footsteps were coming closer. Amanda couldn't find her voice. Nolan stepped into the living room and for a moment they just stared at each other. Amanda couldn't hold it in any longer, her face crumpled and tears flooded her eyes. Nolan was there in an instant, putting his arms around her and just letting her cry. He rubbed her back and tried to soothe her. "Amanda, Amanda, it's all right."

The girl pulled back and looked at him, noticing now that the collar of his shirt was ripped and his left eye was swollen. "Nolan, what happened to you?"

Trying not to worry her further, Nolan hugged her in close and kissed the crown of her head before releasing her. "Things got a little heated, Mr. Porter called the police. Everyone scattered as soon as they came."

He went to the refrigerator and took out a handful of ice cubes, setting them into a wet washcloth and pressing the cold bundle to his face. "You didn't have any trouble getting back home, did you?"

"No."

"Good, the team did its job."

Amanda swiped at her eyes. "Team? What're you talking about?"

"You didn't think it's just been the two of us all this time, did you? Mandy, at any given time there are five plain-clothes private security personnel surrounding us whenever we leave the house."

"Fire them, they let you get hurt!" Amanda snapped, surprising herself with an animal surge of protectiveness over him. The world had taken her father away and now Nolan had been attacked. This wasn't right, none of it was, it was all so unfair and it couldn't go on. She couldn't stand it.

"No, they did their job and made sure you got home safe." Those had been Nolan's direct orders, and that Amanda had made it back without incident was proof enough that the team was earning their inflated paychecks.

"How? I didn't see anyone."

"That's exactly the point, Amanda, they're meant to be invisible. They only would have stepped in if there was a direct threat to you. They're the reason no one from that mob on the pier followed you home." Nolan explained lightly, doing nothing to ease the tension in the girl. In the span of thirty minutes she had gone from content to terrified to furious and frustrated.

"I hate this!" Amanda burst out. "All of it - all the secrets and hiding, and it's all been for nothing! That crazy lady had a tabloid with my picture on it!"

Nolan hated this too, seeing her like this, knowing everything she'd been through. "I know. Big Ed gave me a copy."

"Big Ed?"

"One of our guys." He dismissed. "I'm going to call the tabloid and get this story retracted. I'll take care of this mess, you'll see."

* * *

Apparently, freedom of the press was alive and well in America. This did not work in Nolan's favor in regard to the pictures. An amateur photographer had taken Amanda's picture as they were leaving Lockhart during their last visit to David, just days before. Luckily this photographer - may he rot in hell, whoever he was - hadn't followed Amanda through the parking lot to see just who had driven her to and from the prison.

Not to sound self-important, but Nolan knew his involvement with Amanda and David would be a bigger story than just the revelation of Amanda herself.

Still.

He'd had Denise call the tabloid and command them to retract the story on the grounds of mistaken identity and that the photographs were of a minor - leaving the name of Nolan Ross out of the equation, of course. Fearing a massive lawsuit, the main tabloid would retract their report of Amanda Clarke, but they had already sold her pictures to other rags and the story of the incident on the pier had already made its way through multiple conspiracy blogs.

At this point, Denise was at a loss - she warned Nolan against chasing after each lead as it would only draw more attention to him. The pictures of Amanda leaving Lockhart had already been sold and cloned all over the Internet. It had become a hydra situation: for every picture Nolan had taken down, a hundred other sites were displaying it on their front page.

Besides Amanda's picture being all over the Internet was the furious woman who had first accosted her on the pier - the woman had alerted the local press about Amanda Clarke, daughter of the bastard terrorist David Clarke living somewhere amongst them, how the Hamptons were certainly Americon Initiative's next target.  
Naturally, Nolan had done what he could but the rumors had grown out of control. He couldn't stop word of mouth.

The man felt powerless once again.

He couldn't stop those pictures of Amanda from being shared all over the web. He couldn't stop that woman from telling everyone that Amanda Clarke was in the Hamptons, that she was an agent of the Initiative plotting the next attack.

All he could do now was try to redirect the damage.

As for the girl herself? Nolan had put Amanda on lockdown - she was not to leave the house unless the place was on fire; she was only allowed to go into the backyard at night and only after the team had assured Nolan the area was safe and of course the first thing he had done was nix her morning runs.

"You knew about that?" Amanda had at least had the good grace to look chagrined.

Nolan only scoffed at her. "C'mon, Amanda, of course I knew! Who do you think you're dealing with here?"

Keeping Amanda in the gilded cage of his house was not going to work for long, Nolan knew. It was a temporary solution that was already fraying Amanda's nerves; she was being punished all over again for what the Initiative had done.

* * *

Amanda scowled as she looked out the window to the beach. She missed her runs, the time she and Nolan spent together on the shore and at the fire pit. More than missing the outside world, Amanda was growing even more resentful of what her life had become.

Americon Initiative did this to her, just as they'd done it to her father.

Why? Why had they been targeted like this, who had decided that they deserved to suffer this way?

Months since 197 and they were no closer to any real answers.

If anything it was more of a mystery.

Days after the incident on the pier, days into her seclusion, Nolan woke early in the morning to find Amanda sitting on the floor near the patio door, watching the rain come down in hard, heavy sheets. The infinity pool was stirring with the tiny impacts. Despite reinforcing all the windows in the house with bulletproof glass and the reassurances from his security team, it made Nolan nervous when Amanda sat near the window like that. Still, he kept quiet when she took her place there - everything else had been taken from her, Nolan couldn't forbid her the best view of the shore. In many ways it was all she had left of her freedom.

Nolan watched her from the top of the stairs, looking so desolate. He started down the flight, about to tell her he'd make waffles in an effort to cheer her up, when Amanda turned around and addressed him.

"This isn't going to stop, is it Nolan? It's just going to keep happening. It doesn't matter where we go, my picture is out there. I was barely mentioned when they reported on dad, now I'm all over the Internet and everyone is looking for me. Did you see the news last night? A girl in Colorado was attacked just because she looks like me. I hate this Nolan."

He moved down the stairs and came toward her. He sighed lightly, then looked out the window to the rain. He thought about what David had said, and wished they'd had more time. There was no true guidance in a situation like this, but Nolan knew what had to be done. He reached to his face and probed at the bruise there, the pain providing the reinforcement he needed. The thought of Amanda being attacked, of being beaten or cut by people driven mad by revenge, was all the resolve he needed.

Nolan took Amanda's hand and pulled her to her feet, guiding her over to the kitchen table where he'd laid out different tabloids that had put her picture on the front page; some of them had her picture split with David's mugshot and every last one of them featured a story centered around testaments from anonymous sources, all of it grade-A tabloid trash. "I know you do. So do I. Emily, it's not safe for you here. Nothing will make me believe that your father is guilty of what was done to that plane, but you have to understand. The people who were killed...their families, they'll keep coming after you. That woman, she's already told anyone who would listen that you're here. You can't stay."

Fear immediately gripped her, and Amanda begged, "Nolan, please don't send me back to that place!"

The thought of returning to Millhouse turned her stomach - she'd rather try making it on her own in the world than go back to that.

Nolan shook his head, "No, that's not what I meant. Your school, the one in Europe. You have to go."

Amanda rubbed at her forehead as she watched Nolan move to the kitchen counter. She had only mentioned that school to him in passing, it was where her high school career was to begin, but that was all over now. "I can't go to school there now, my acceptance was rescinded." She told him, feeling wretched. Her stomach was in knots, her world falling apart. She couldn't have her father yet, she knew this, but she desperately wanted to stay with Nolan.

Nolan rolled his eyes, not at all surprised at that bit of news. Amanda was so young, and already the world was punishing her for the sins of her father. "Figures."

He looked over all the covers, furious that the paparazzi had gone so far as to take her picture, putting a target on her for the crazed public to attack. They may come after her for years now that they knew what she looked like...

In a blink, Nolan had the idea. "You can't go...but you can!"

Amanda furrowed her brows at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean that _you_ can't go, but _you_ can."

Nolan swept his hands over the kitchen counter, grabbing the nearest tabloid that had her face on the cover. He took up a Sharpie and drew over the picture, blacking out her blonde curls, adding thick blunt bangs and then, glasses with thick frames.

Amanda immediately understood his intent. She looked up at him, "A disguise?"

Nolan shook his head, the idea blooming in his mind. "No. Your face has hit the press, and the word'll get out that you're here. Amanda, since the people can't get their hands on David...I'm terrified that they might settle for his daughter."

"You think someone will try to hurt me." It was a statement, not a question.

"After the pier, I know someone will. Amanda, one of the people the police questioned had a gun." Nolan shook his head, the internal urge to protect her overriding everything as his thoughts raced forward with this new idea. "A disguise won't be enough. I can build you a new identity. A new name, a new look. No one will know you, you'll be safe at the school, away from all this."

"But what about dad?"

"I will do everything I can for your father, I promise. But you have to do this for me."

"How?"

"I'll build your new identity, then send in an application under your new name along with a big donation. They'll take you, I know how these things work." Already his mind was spinning. She would need a new social security number, a birth certificate, he would need to alter her fingerprint records...

"I don't want to go, Nolan." Amanda said quietly. She felt swept away, it was clear that Nolan had already made his decision, all that was left was the literal execution.

Nolan was going to send Amanda Clarke straight to the gallows.

He took her hand, his eyes pleading for her understanding. "I don't want to send you away, but I promised your father that I would protect you. I would do everything I could to protect you even if he hadn't asked me, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes."

She knew Nolan, trusted him. She knew he believed he was doing the right thing but she didn't want to go. She wanted to stay.

"I would keep you here if I could, but it's too dangerous. You were all set to go to this school before everything happened - the school will still be great for you, you'll have the same classes you wanted, it will still offer you great opportunities. You'll make friends, maybe even find yourself a little boyfriend." Nolan teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He was trying so hard to paint this in a bright light for her.

Amanda forced a laugh to keep herself from bursting into tears. Her father was ripped away from her, Nolan was sending her away and he thought she cared about _dating?_

"There's nothing for you here, Amanda. Your father and I, we want what's best for you. This school, getting away from all this, it will be best for you. In time, you'll see that." He was patronizing her now, speaking to her like he would to a very young child, rather than the relative equal he'd always treated her as over the course of their knowing each other.

Inwardly, Amanda was seething with helpless rage. Furious with Nolan for dictating to her this way, despairing for her father, ready to burn the world for the hell that her life had become over the past few months.

But what was there to say?

Nolan wanted her at the school, out of his life. She wouldn't beg him to let her stay. If he wanted her gone, then fine. She'd go to the school and never come back.

"All right. I'll do what you want."

Nolan paused at her words, the dead acceptance that held no match for the pained fury in her eyes. In this moment, his friend hated him, he could feel it down to his bones. But she had agreed, and that's what he needed from her today.

He would do all he could to regain her love tomorrow.


	14. Chapter 14

"...expanding awareness of The Stowaway by building up a website."

Carl Porter furrowed his brows at Nolan. Being that he'd started work on the docks just after his seventeenth birthday and sunk his every last dime into this bar over the past fifteen years, it would surprise no one that he wasn't up on tech marketing or this new phenomenon of social media. He was a man who measured himself by each day's honest work, the ache in his hands and back. For all his work, he had little to show for it since the business had fallen on hard times and he had run out of options. The bank had been closing in with a foreclosure notice when the affable Mr. Ross had approached him with a deal to buy the bar but to allow it to remain within his control. Carl wasn't proud to admit when he needed help, but he was not a stupid man.

Pride or not, he could see Nolan's deal for the godsend it was.

The Stowaway would stay open, Carl would still direct how things were run and his sons could stay with him.

What more could he ask for?

Nolan had taken an interest in the bar months ago and approached him about buying this failing business and infusing it with enough money to bring it back into the black. As he had the resources at his disposal to do so, Nolan intended to buy the bar, make all the necessary repairs and upgrades to draw in a larger customer base. His estimate was that once The Stowaway reopened it would be fully profitable again within two years.

Carl needed that, desperately. For his business to flourish, for his boys' future to be secure, for the constant worry he'd lived with for the past year to finally, blessedly _stop._

He wrung his hands together on the table. "I'm not great with computers-"

"No worries, I'll have an intern at NolCorp cook up a website to launch a few weeks before the bar reopens. It'll drum up anticipation and...what's the matter?" Nolan raised a brow once he saw that Porter's eyes had drifted and he was frowning in concern.

"Something's going on out there with your girl."

"My...?" Nolan followed the man's eyes to the window and could see Amanda talking to a woman - no, not talking, the woman was gesturing aggressively at Amanda, who was backing away as the woman advanced on her. Whatever conflict was happening was also drawing the attention of other people on the boardwalk.

Nolan launched out of his chair with Carl right behind him. He shoved his way past a man on the pier, heart suddenly pounding hard, his eyes on Amanda who looked terrified. He saw the woman grab her arm and shake her as she screamed in Amanda's face, which was all Nolan needed to see for his protective instinct to take over. Amanda wasn't able to say anything before Nolan snarled at the woman and broke her grip, positioning Amanda behind him, not looking at the girl - his focus was on this deranged woman who was screaming the truth and drawing more attention than was safe.

The truth of who Amanda was - the secret Nolan had worked so hard to protect.

A quick sweep of the eyes and Nolan could see five men and four women approaching the scene this woman was causing. Most of their expressions were curious, concerned, but two men were looking at Amanda with narrowed, suspicious eyes and now Nolan could see why. Amanda's face was on the cover of a tabloid.

 _Shit._

He didn't look at her, but he commanded Amanda to get away from them, to get back to the house. The woman screamed at Amanda as she bolted from the pier but Nolan wasn't worried for the girl. The team, ever invisible, would look after her, though the woman should never have been able to lay a hand on Amanda - she should have never even have made it close enough for that. There would be consequences for them once this woman was dealt with, Nolan would make sure of that.

"Look I don't know what your damage is, lady, but that girl wasn't Amanda Clarke!" Nolan snapped at the woman, hoping he could convince the gathering crowd. One hysterical woman he could manage on his own, but mob mentality was a different beast all together.

"She is! You called her Amanda, it's Amanda, Amanda Clarke!"

"No, Amanda, my cousin! She's been staying with me all summer, ask anyone. You're crazy and you need to leave. Now!"

"Liar! You're lying! You're one of them, you're with Americon Initiative, aren't you?!" She woman lunged at Nolan but, on reaction, he grasped her wrists to stop her from clawing his face. "You're one of them! You're a part of this! She's Amanda Clarke, you're working with David Clarke! What are your plans? What's the next target?!"

"You're crazy, I'm not with the Initiative, get off me!"

Seeing that this had turned physical, several of the men who had just been watching rushed forward to pull them apart. The woman kept screaming while two men forced Nolan back, berating him for putting his hands on a woman. Nevermind that the woman was hysterical, still screaming at him, and Nolan had only restrained her in self-defense.

Heated, Nolan said something snarky and earned himself a punch in the face. The hit stung, but to Nolan it barely registered. How could it, when Amanda was in danger? He could still hear the woman yelling. He could hear Carl Porter somewhere in the middle of this fray, defending Nolan and Amanda, trying to shout the woman down as having just went after the first blonde girl she saw after picking up that rag.

The tabloid with Amanda's face right there on the cover. How had it happened? Who had taken her picture and exposed her?

Confused yelling continued on all sides until a police car made its way to the scene. Two officers emerged and questioned several people before urging everyone to disperse. _Move along, folks, nothing to see here._

Carl approached Nolan as he headed toward his car. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. You saw her, right? That woman was crazy, grabbing at Amanda and screaming that she's the Clarke girl."

He nodded. "I saw that. She...seemed pretty convinced."

Nolan knew what the man was asking him - it was the silent question that would be on everyone's mind, now. Several copies of that tabloid were strewn all around them on the boardwalk and it was right there on the cover, Amanda's face in perfect focus.

Nolan shook his head and fixed the man with a cold stare. "It's not her. Say it."

Carl swallowed - he knew something wasn't right but there was too much at stake for him not to do as he was told. He had to go along to get along. For his livelihood, for his children. "It...that lady got it wrong. It's not her."

"Right. Spread the word. You'll have your investment by the end of the week."

* * *

Days after the incident on the pier and Nolan had run with the idea to change Amanda's identity and send her away. It had been a bolt of inspiration born from her misery at being caged in the name of safety. The idea had taken on a life of its own within minutes.

Amanda could hear Nolan upstairs, footsteps over her room and his muffled voice - he was either talking on the phone or he was talking to himself, which he did fairly often as geniuses of his caliber were wont to do - while he must have assumed she was sleeping.

Amanda was not asleep. She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. No. Not _her_ bedroom. It wasn't hers, nothing in this house was. Everything - every square inch of the house, the backyard, the beach, the whole Hamptons - belonged to Nolan. Amanda rolled onto her side and punched the mattress. Nolan had reached his limit, of course he had. Amanda knew she must have done something, pushed him too far or asked him for too much...she was a burden to him, she had been since the first day and now she had proven herself a true danger to him.

Nolan had promised to protect her but now the threat was too great. Since her picture had been released he had kept her in his beautiful cage of a house for days, his team of invisible guard-dog operatives surrounding their location.

It had gone on long enough.

Nolan was sending her away.

More than that, he was freeing himself by erasing her. Nolan Ross would kill Amanda Clarke with a few keystrokes and a smile. He was sending her away, out of his life so he could go back to NolCorp, his true love.

Amanda bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her eyes closed, hating the hot tears that escaped them.

As ever, there was conflict within the girl.

She hated Nolan for sending her away at the same time that she loved him too much to protest - the man would be safer with her out of the way, he could go on to the next step of his life as tech mogul and celebrity. She was holding him back from the great things still out there for him to accomplish. How could he reach the stars while he was trapped in the Hamptons taking care of her, the great anchor on his life?

Amanda wanted to stay in the safe, quiet routines of the Hamptons they had built this summer, yet at the same time, excited whispers of the adventures she could have rose in the back of her mind. Before all this, before 197, there had already been plans for her to attend the school abroad. David had been so happy for her and he'd been making plans to move nearby so that, while she'd be living on campus, her father would never be too far.

Now, though...

Amanda took in a great gulp of air and clenched her chest, desperate to stifle the scream fighting its way up her throat. Her fingers curled into the sheet, pulling with all her strength yet it wasn't enough to tear the fabric.

 _Not enough, never enough..._

She shifted onto her stomach and screamed into her pillow, biting into it like an animal.

How had it all gone so wrong for everyone? Everything had been ruined that horrible Tuesday morning - not just for them, but for everyone. Amanda had never paid much attention to the news before, but after 197 she had learned the price of ignorance. The whole country was turning on itself, crime of all stripes had skyrocketed as people embraced their every impulse in a world gone mad.

And them, just the three of them, trapped in the eye of the storm.

David Clarke, the accused.

Amanda Clarke, the exposed.

Nolan Ross, the attacked.

And these months of bonding and familiar routine and growth between them were at an end. Whatever half-formed hopes Amanda had had for them were gone. No more trips into town, no more cooking for each other, no more walks on the beach, no more chasing the stars in his telescope or late nights spent talking at the firepit.

Gone was the shapeless dream of Nolan being _hers_.

Soon, too soon, Amanda would be on the other side of the world.

Soon, Amanda Clarke would no longer exist.

* * *

After a restless night, Amanda surrendered any thought of protest.

It was freeing in its way, letting go.

She didn't want to fight Nolan on this, it was all over but the doing.

He was right.

Amanda had been exposed and the effects of that were already showing themselves.

She thought of the girl on the news from the night before, the Colorado girl who had been attacked solely because she had a strong resemblance to Amanda. The media was tearing through her life now, hounding her school friends and old teachers, anyone who could provide some insight into who she was, anything that might hint if she shared her father's connection to Americon Initiative. She wasn't a child caught in the middle of this mess any longer, people thought of her as having a hand in the 197 tragedy, a girl and her father who had conspired to murder hundreds of people. Amanda wasn't just a girl, she was a young killer, a child soldier of the Initiative.

Thanks to the tabloid, Amanda had been put in the spotlight and built into the same monster as her father.

Amanda rubbed her hand over her face and thought of her father. She would need to write him a letter explaining what had happened, as she would be in school by the time of their next scheduled visit.

David would understand. She hoped.

So.

Amanda humored herself that Nolan's idea may work out for the best. She had to continue with her education in any case, and once she was living alone she could continue to build herself up into the woman she wanted to be. The woman with the power to avenge herself.

* * *

In the morning, Nolan sat with Amanda in the backyard, sharing the bench swing with her, rocking it back and forth as she curled into her seat, drawing her knees up to her chest. The team had cleared the area, it was safe for them to be together outside. For a time, at least. The girl had been passive that morning as he'd made her breakfast, no arguments as he'd voiced ideas for her new look and a tentative timeline for her departure.

Nolan was disappointed, in a way.

The girl was going along with his ideas and contributing her own input but Nolan could sense the anger just under the surface; it would be no small thing when the girl reached her limit and all that anger finally overwhelmed her. Teenage rage would be better than this false acceptance she was projecting to him. At least her anger would be real.

For now, though, there was the plan to attend to. Nolan knew the risks he had been taking where Amanda was concerned - no step he'd taken since bringing her into his home had been legal. Off the top of his head, Nolan knew that he was guilty of fraud, forgery and international surveillance. He would face years in jail for any one of those crimes, but he had walked into this bizarre circumstance with his eyes open.

He wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He was in too deep to stop now - Amanda was alone but for him and David was depending on him. They were a family. Nolan knew all too well what could happen to him and he would do all he could to avoid those consequences, but if his mischief ever caught up to him he wanted to make sure that Amanda would be taken care of.

If Nolan couldn't protect her, then NolCorp would.

"I'm going to have Denise over today. You know I've been back and forth with her over the phone since your pictures were released."

"Yes and you said you hadn't had any luck in getting them deleted."

Nolan bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't need the reminder that, for all his genius, even he couldn't control the entire Internet. Not yet, anyway. "Unfortunate but true. For every picture I had taken down, it sprung up on a hundred other websites with the same story, that I'm harboring you for whatever reason. I've issued my statement to the press, distancing myself from David."

"I know. I saw it."

Amanda had seen Nolan on TV and saw him as something of a traitor for claiming he had no idea why anyone would accuse him of harboring the daughter of suspected terrorist David Clarke. His words were brief but cutting, and Amanda wished more than anything that Nolan would have instead told the camera that David Clarke was his friend and a victim of conspiracy, that the Graysons were the ones involved with Americon Initiative and behind 197.

Still.

Amanda didn't hate Nolan for what he'd said, she couldn't. She knew it was all for their protection, distancing himself. She could only accept that this was what things had come to since her picture had been released and that woman on the pier had publicly accused Nolan of being involved with Americon Initiative.

"I'm going to meet with Denise today about your...school situation."

"You mean about sending me away."

Nolan cringed at her words. There is was. Amanda was angry...he couldn't blame her for that, but with her picture circulating and his name connected to her, it wasn't safe for them to be together. "Yes. It'll be a quick visit, she'll be here around 3."

Amanda sighed, understanding that he didn't want her intruding on the meeting. "I'll stay out of your way."

* * *

Denise Walker made the long drive from the city to the Hamptons. As she passed by mansion after mansion, beach clubs and overpriced boutiques, wine bars and hotels, she had to smile to herself.

She wasn't what one might expect, with her ebony skin and stylish braids, and certainly not what one of the Hamptonites would assume. They might look at her and guess she was a scholarship kid and hired to a firm solely to earn points for diversity.

The truth was that she had come from a boring middle class family to loving parents. She had a brother who'd become a pediatrician and a sister who was an army officer. She had married her college boyfriend who was just as much of a driven workaholic as she was. She had earned everything she had, moving her way to the top until she had made a name for herself as a prosecutor and now, as a public relations attorney for celebrities. The clients were few, but her position was no less demanding. Mr. Ross had been relatively easy to handle until this summer. Between burying his connection to David Clarke and assisting him with his mission to kidnap Amanda and then negotiating visitation with the accused terrorist, Nolan Ross had become quite the handful.

Now, he wanted to meet face-to-face for the first time in months. This did not bode well.

 _At least the scenery is nice,_ she thought as she parked in the driveway of his great glass house.

It was her hope to retire to a beach view, but that was far into the future.

Her prize client answered the door and pulled her into a surprise hug - something he'd never done before, but then again he'd never invited her to his Hamptons house before, either. "Denise, it's so good to see you. Come in, come in, you're dressed for the boardroom not the beach!"

She shrugged, unnerved by his behavior, somehow. He was nervous, that much was clear as he lead her inside and then outside to the backyard patio where a large lunch spread was waiting. She usually didn't eat in front of her clients, save for business lunches, but Mr. Ross was special and he was well worth being indulged. The man was odd in general, but today he seemed jittery, and she knew him well enough at this point it was a mask for whatever he'd done that was making him feel guilty.

 _What has he done this time around?_ She wondered as she slipped off her heels - her only concession to his insisting that she dress down - and fixed herself a plate. Grilled chicken kabobs, hummus, fruit and sangria were on offer. She refused the sangria and took water instead. This was an unusual meeting, but she was still a professional.

Nolan made a plate for himself and hurriedly gulped at his sangria, uneasy despite the spread he'd set up for this discussion. Amanda was angry with him, hurt by what he'd done, which made him doubt his plans for her; if Nolan was honest with himself, that was the real reason he'd wanted to meet with Denise, so the woman could ease his mind, reassure him that he was truly doing the right thing for his girl.

"Mr. Ross this is all lovely." Denise complimented him as she took a seat at the shaded patio table. Nolan set his plate and wineglass across from her. "How has the...transition been?"

"Transition?"

"Your new houseguest."

"Oh, that. Not really a transition, she's stayed with me before while David was on business, though of course it's never been for this long." Nolan shrugged and took a quick gulp of his drink, his eyes searching for Amanda down on the shore below. The team had assured him it was safe, and though he couldn't see her, he knew the girl wasn't far. "With everything that's happened and now, with her picture out there all over the Internet and that close call on the pier...well, I've just been trying to keep her spirits up."

Denise nodded. She had known about the tabloid, and had called Nolan several times the morning the rag hit the stands to warn him, but in his excitement about the deal at The Stowaway, Nolan had kept his cell phone on silent - he blamed himself for that oversight, if he had been made aware of Amanda's picture being made public then she never would have been outed on the pier by that outraged woman.

"Keeping her spirits up is all you can do." Denise told him. "I'm sorry that I don't have anything new to report at this point. The investigation into David Clarke is still underway and each side is building their case."

"No, no, I know there's nothing new - that's not why I invited you over."

"I don't imagine you only wanted my company."

"If I thought you'd give me a real chance I'd wine and dine you all over the city, you'd love it."

"I'm sure you're the type to go all-out to impress your date, sir, but my husband might object." Denise reminded him. Despite her adherence to professionalism, she did enjoy being the object of his harmless flirting affection.

"Bring him along!" Nolan laughed. "I've seen his picture, he's just my type."

"Well, he was my type first. Now, as exciting as a three-way date might be, sir, it doesn't explain why you invited me over today."

Nolan took a deep breath, the humor of their playful exchange draining from him. "I need to talk to you about Amanda."

"It always seems to come back to that girl. This has been one of our strangest summers, sir, you were such a low-maintenance client before her." Denise chided him lightly.

"I know!" Nolan laughed. "Everyone's life was simpler before all of this. She's a walking complication but I love her."

"That's been clear since the first day. What you've done for her is already so admirable."

"Admirable, maybe, but it's also turned out to be dangerous." Nolan swallowed. "Denise, I'm sending her to school abroad."

There, he said it.

Denise absorbed the bomb he'd just dropped, her sharp mind immediately calculating the potential risks and rewards of his decision. As his primary counsel, it was her responsibility to protect his interests and his image. Amanda had been a complication from the moment Nolan announced his intent to bring her into his home; she had been quick to write up a press statement immediately distancing him from any association with David Clarke or his daughter. Every day since the tabloid released Amanda's picture that Nolan kept her in his house was a greater risk of them being found out - Nolan's security team couldn't protect them from long range camera lenses forever.

All it would take was one picture of Nolan and Amanda together and it would all fall apart.

Sending the girl away would eliminate the complication. The risk of being found out would dissolve, and he could go back to being Nolan Ross, tech celebrity and prize client. That was the cold truth of the matter, but even a cold-blooded lawyer could see that not everything was so black and white. Human emotions had a tendency to complicate things. "She loves you, Mr. Ross." Denise ventured. "When you went to get her from Millhouse, she lit up at the sight of you. She knew you'd make everything right again. That girl thinks you hung the moon, you're her hero."

Nolan knew what Denise was hinting at, Amanda's infatuation with him. Of course Nolan knew, he wasn't oblivious to female attention, no matter where it came from or how subtle it was. He imagined he was probably her first real crush but he wouldn't think to embarrass Amanda by addressing it. He'd been her age once, he knew her infatuation with him would just run its course, but until then...

"I...I know. I'm going to play on this little crush of hers to keep her obedient. It's the only way to keep her safe."

"You mean to toy with her? Don't take it too far."

Nolan scowled at her warning, "Take it too far? Jesus, what do you think I'd do?"

He was many things, not all of them good, but he knew what Denise was warning against. He felt insulted that she felt the need to hint at such a thing; Amanda was off-limits in that regard for a host of reasons, first and foremost being that she was barely more than a child, for God's sake. He occasionally teased the girl about special birthday dates and the like, but that's all it had ever been from Nolan's side of things - teasing and jokes to lighten things when their conversations grew heavy.

Amanda's crush on him aside, things between them never had and never would cross that line.

"I'm sorry."

Denise was sorry to have insulted him, but she had met other celebrities and high rollers who had a taste for young teens. Any attempt of Nolan's to play on Amanda's feelings could be read the wrong way and end up as a disaster for them both.

"I would never hurt her, but I'll make sure she does what needs to be done. If I have to charm her a little to keep her in line, then I'll do it. I can't have her here. Despite the press statement, I've been getting threats and hate mail every day. I can handle that. But Amanda shouldn't have to. This has been difficult enough without her being afraid for her life." Nolan couldn't stand the thought of Amanda constantly being afraid - she deserved to have a real life. "She needs to get away from all of this and I need to get back to my life. The truth is that I've been hiding out here too, Denise, and it can't go on."

"And after?"

Nolan speared his fingers through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. "After she goes I'm getting a new place. There are too many memories here."

That at least was true. Amanda was an engaging distraction, but he missed Marco every night - it was a wound that hadn't yet healed.

Denise tapped her glass with a manicured nail. "A new house won't make you forget about him, Mr. Ross."

She didn't have to say anything else, there was no need.

"No, but a change of scenery will be a great start. After everything, I think it's what we both need. And speaking of needs, I want to update my will and holdings - if I'm jailed for anything I've done in regard to the Clarke family, I want it so that everything goes to Amanda." Nolan told her, fully confident that Denise would have it done within the week.

"You want her listed as your next of kin?"

"You know my family situation, I haven't spoken to them in years. I don't have any kids that I know of, so it all goes to her. I don't have anyone else."

"I'll update your records, sir." They were quiet for a time, thinking and enjoying the sun, the breeze, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. "How do you think she'll do, out there on her own?"

Nolan considered her question. "She was set to go there before all this, so in a way it's a real chance for her to pick up where she left off. I know she hates me right now but she knows this will be for the best, and really it's our only option. I wasn't thinking long-term when I took her from Millhouse, but I can't keep her here for much longer. She has to go to school and a girl her age needs friends."

"True, but her experience has been much different than most girls her age."

"I want her to have as normal a life as possible, even with everything that's already happened." He shrugged. "I would keep her with me if I could - keep on with this whole thing, taking turns cooking, going to lunch and dinner in town, buying her whatever she could want. I even let her drive my car around the block a few times and she was great at it." Genuine pride touched his voice and Denise felt for him. It was clear that Nolan hadn't just been entertaining Amanda like a put-upon babysitter, he had truly enjoyed her all through these summer months, which was strangely telling. "I know it's not right. She's become my best friend but this situation, it can't go on. For her protection and for her future, she has to go. I just hope she can forgive me."

Denise reached across the table and put her hand over his. "She will. In time."

* * *

In the evening, hours after Denise had departed the Hamptons, Amanda stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, frowning at the stranger who looked back at her. She'd been a blonde all her life, the idea of going dark had only ever been a passing thought - one always dismissed because unlike most teenage girls, Amanda was content enough with the way she looked that she'd had no desire to experiment in extremes.

Or, she had been, before coating her every strand in the stench of drugstore dye.

She applied unfamiliar, harsh shades of makeup and added a pair of vanity glasses.

A new Amanda stared back as her, an Amanda whose skin was paler, almost sallow now thanks to her new mane of unnatural blue-black hair. She sighed deeply, some part of her knowing that this - dying her hair, cutting in side bangs, the heavy eyeliner, dark lipstick and wearing the glasses - was only the beginning.  
Nolan had told her that he would change her name, but the truth was that he was working to change her entire identity, rewriting who she was, what she looked like and where she came from, all under the guise of his protection.

Amanda looked herself over in the mirror. She didn't look ugly, exactly, she just didn't look anything like herself. Just as Nolan had wanted.

"I never thought I'd have black hair." She lamented out loud.

"Yeah, me neither."

Amanda jumped, startled that she wasn't alone, but even more surprised to see Nolan in the doorway to her bathroom, his own hair now an inky shade to match her own. "Nolan! You dyed your hair too, why?"

The man stepped aside so she could leave the bathroom, but then took her place before the mirror. As a man, Nolan was not so devastated by a makeover. Not that he didn't think he looked better in his natural shade, but he was confident enough in either color.

He shrugged, "No reason for you to suffer alone, Emily."

Amanda frowned, "Emily? That's my middle name."

Nolan shook his head as he exited the bathroom. Amanda was vaguely jealous to see that his eyes seemed brighter when paired with his new dark hair, meanwhile her own eyes had seemed to go flat. It was insulting, really, that Nolan appeared even more striking while she had been completely washed out.

Then again, that was the idea - Nolan wanted her to blend in and go unnoticed, and no one was overlooked more than a quiet, plain girl.

"No, it's your new first name. I chose that for you because it will be easier for you to get used to."

"Fine. Emily it is, I guess."

Nolan came in close, then tipped her chin up, lightly forcing her to meet his eyes. "No. No guessing. You need to be sure that you can be Emily from now on, for as long as it takes."

"I can."

"You can't tell anyone who you were here, and you can't tell them you know me. After tomorrow, we have to be each other's secret. I know you hate this, but I know you understand it."

Amanda knew the risks now, and she knew that Nolan had done so much for her, so much more than she could ever hope to repay. This was another new start for them. She loved him and hated that she had to leave, but she could feel it - they were united in this deception. Partners and allies, soon to be separated by an ocean.

"I do. Nolan, call me Emily again."

Nolan couldn't help his hand, he speared his fingers through her hair, dragged his nails over her scalp, stimulating her more than any man had a right to do at her age and knowing all too well the effect he had on her. It was there, the sudden fearful awareness of arousal in her eyes, the flush over her cheeks and throat.

He recognized it and he did it anyway.

Whatever it took to make her comply, whatever it took to protect her.

"You are Emily now. Emily Thorne. Say it."

Amanda took a deep breath, her eyes locked with his as she obeyed the soft command.

"I am Emily Thorne."


	15. Chapter 15

Nolan wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of the chemical smell of his own hair. He had rinsed and rerinsed several times and used half a bottle of conditioner in an effort to mask the stench, but here he was days after first dying his hair and he still couldn't shake the stink. He'd thought he would be fine with dying his hair, but after the fifth time of startling himself in the mirror, he was man enough to admit he'd be going back to blonde the first chance he got.

He was his own brand, after all, and he'd be getting back to that part of his life very soon. Perhaps too soon. He would be moving back to the city, and ridding himself of this house, for a start. Over the summer he'd maintained NolCorp but once he got back into it he had several ideas that he wanted to develop. He had the vague sense of anticipation, of summer vacation coming to an end and getting back to work.

He was sure that Amanda - _Emily_ \- was having the same feeling now that school was on the horizon for her, though she hadn't said anything about it to him. She hadn't said much of anything, really. Emily was going on as she had since her photo had first been exposed, drifting through the house like a ghost, eyes flat as she watched as the news told of other girls all across the country who had been misidentified as Amanda Clarke.

Changing her appearance so drastically had cemented things for her. It was no longer just an idea, Nolan's sending her away. Her appearance and her name were different, now. She would have to behave differently as well.

Amanda looked in her closet, at the clothes and shoes that Nolan had bought for her. She would need to change her style to match her appearance, but that would be no challenge to her. The school she would attend enforced uniforms, but in her off time she could dress as she pleased.

 _Emily Thorne._

How would Emily Thorne dress? What did Emily Thorne like to do in her free time? What were Emily Thorne's favorite foods?

Amanda licked lightly at her bottom lip, tasting her darker toned lipstick. She hadn't considered this angle, that Emily Thorne wasn't just her masquerading under a false name, but as a full character that Amanda had the power to shape, a complete person that she would become. Wasn't this exactly what so many of her spy novels described? The protagonist, on taking an undercover assignment, would be assigned a new name...but a name was just a name. It was up to the spy herself to build the identity behind it.

So.

Emily Thorne.

Amanda thought on it, how she wanted to shape Emily. Undoubtedly, Emily Thorne would be a great aid in Amanda's hope to expose the Initiative. Those people had framed David Clarke, and, for all she knew, they may have a defense in place should Amanda Clarke ever show a sign of being trouble on the horizon.

But Emily Thorne, the unknown entity who, in time, could prove to be the elegant executioner of Americon Initiative. No one knew Emily Throne. Emily Thorne didn't even exist yet. She was only a name that Amanda Clarke would take as she lived her life. She would go to school, she would make friends, she would date...she would grow up.

Everything she did from now on would be to craft the weapon named Emily Thorne.

* * *

Nolan stood in the doorway of the girl's bedroom, eyes roaming the near-empty space. The girl herself was outside in the sun, taking one last walk on the shore.

It seemed they had finally come down to their lasts of everything. One last walk on the shore, one last night at the firepit, one last night looking through the telescope, one last shared dinner, one last day together in this house.

Tomorrow, after she was gone, Nolan would have the last of the house packed up and he would return to the city. He had hidden himself away in the Hamptons for too long.

Amanda Clarke was going to disappear into the ether, and Nolan Ross was going to reemerge into the world.

A fresh start for them both.

* * *

Amanda sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. She hadn't slept the night before, of course. It was impossible. The morning would bring her new life and she was excited to meet her, the woman she was to become. It had all come down to a choice: she could either dread her future or be active in shaping it. Cowering from the unknown would be an embrace of her own despised weakness, she refused it. Her only option was to march forward with her head held high.

So, rather than remain in bed, staring at the ceiling and crying over her life, she had already dressed and readied herself, her clothing and cosmetics adjusted in response to her new look, this new person she was set to be. She wrung her hands together, staring blankly at the wall while picturing what it would be like, living under the weight of her secrets amongst the other students who lived such simple lives. Hadn't Nolan mentioned something about her making new friends and dating? Privately, she scoffed at that. In her past life, those had been things to look forward to in high school. Now it felt like a joke to even think about as being a priority.

She could not go back to what she had once been. That simple girl was gone.

Amanda had been alone for the first time in her life during those terrible weeks she spent trapped in Millhouse, so confused and angry and afraid. This would be different, of course, because _she_ was different now. She had been broken down and rebuilt over the summer, and she had Nolan to thank for that. He had rescued her, sheltered her, reunited her with her father. He had claimed again and again that she owed him nothing, that they were family.

Amanda didn't know how to express it, how she felt toward him. She wasn't sure of the words or her own feelings.

Nolan was more than family to her. The man was her hero.

She had overcome her anger that he was sending her into the safety of anonymity. She loved him too much to stay angry for longer than those first few nights; she was angry that she had to leave, that their summer adventure was at an end, that her fantasy of a life spent together once her father was freed was under threat now that she was being sent away. Her anger at the situation was a dull ache in her chest, dulled by her resolve to take control once she arrived overseas. The man had brought her to a level of partnership with him for a time, but once her picture had been released he had overruled her - he had chosen the course of her life going forward, but the path was still hers to forge. In the space of hours, she would have the freedom, the power, of reinvention.

She would not disappoint Nolan or her father.

She refused to disappoint herself.

Amanda took a deep breath, resolved to truly _live_ her new life.

The soft knock at her open door broke her chain of thought. Nolan was standing there at the threshold, his face drawn and regretful. Clearly, he hadn't slept either.

"It's time."

Amanda nodded and took up her suitcase.

* * *

It wasn't a long drive to the airport, but it was silent. Neither of them were looking forward to the separation; Nolan for his guilt over this ordeal and Amanda for the uncertainty over her future.

Nolan steered them through the security gates and toward a private hangar where a NolCorp jet was waiting. Emily Thorne was a distant cousin of Nolan Ross, of course, and landing in a branded plane would give further credence to their ruse. Arriving in style would certainly make an impression when she landed abroad.

The man parked and cut off the engine, opening a greater gulf of silence.

For a time, neither spoke. They watched as the NolCorp jet positioned itself on the runway, ready to take off like an arrow into the air, carrying her to the other side of the world.

Nolan spoke first.

"Emily, listen to me." He took her hand and had her look into his eyes. "I'll do everything I can to help your father. You know I will, but what he needs you to do - what we both need you to do, is to get on that plane. Go to school, make the most out of your time there and try to find some happiness for yourself."

Amanda swiped at her eyes, suddenly wet. "With everything that's happened, how can I do that?"

He desperately wished he could answer that. "I don't know. But you have to find a way to hide it - hide the truth, hide what you're feeling whenever you hear David's name on the news or in conversation. You know I would change everything for you if I could."

"I would change things for you too. Nolan, I'm sorry that you were brought into this. And I'm sorry about Marco." She told him.

Nolan frowned at her apology. Even thinking about Marco was painful, but he would be damned if he let her think she was responsible for breaking them. "It isn't your fault that he left."

"Yes it is, and you know it."

Nolan ignored her comment, instead nodding to the pilot who had just waved at them, signaling the time hack for liftoff. They both understood. As one, they got out of the car. Nolan popped the trunk and two hangar staff emerged to take her luggage.

It was time.

Nolan hated himself for this, no matter that it was ultimately the right thing to do. He reached forward and pulled the girl into a hug, revelling when she returned his embrace, thin arms entwining his waist, her sleek black head tucked snuggly under his chin.

He would keep her if he could, keep her in the house surrounded by agents dedicated to her safety, only allowing her outside once every possible threat was assessed, keep her in the house with no more trips into town for shopping or meals out, no more driving lessons or walks on the beach or nights at the fire pit...

And she would hate him for it.

No.

Nolan couldn't be so selfish as to stifle her life. His companion would become his prisoner.

Nolan released her but took hold of her hands. "I'm going to turn around and not look back. You need to do the same thing, you hear me? Go now and don't look back."

The girl took a deep breath and then took a step back from him. Nolan took a step back as well.

"Goodbye Nolan."

"Goodbye Amanda."

It was the last time he would say her name.

There was so much more for them to say, but time had never been on their side.

She turned around then, heavy steps taking her toward the private plane that would take her away from him, away from everything she'd ever known, both the wonderful and the cruel.

On her approach, the pilot stepped into the cockpit, and she paused on the steps leading inside. The girl couldn't help herself; she looked back, surprised to see that Nolan hadn't left. He was still there, standing on the tarmac, clearly intent to stand and watch as she boarded. He would leave only after the plane disappeared into the clouds.

She waved to him, and he waved back. One last look. A last, quiet goodbye.

Amanda lowered her hand. Nolan did the same.

Amanda turned and stepped into the plane.


	16. Chapter 16

Emily slept on the flight, the empty sleep of exhaustion. And Emily was exhausted. Weary down to her bones. Life as Amanda Clarke had been a misery for the past several months. Every day she felt a strong measure of fear for her father and for herself, true rage had blossomed within her, and from that, pure hate and a vow for revenge.

Terrible thoughts flew in and out of her mind, thoughts that no young girl should ever have - but innocence had been burned out of her, she was so different now.

Nolan had done all he could to make up for what had been torn from her, but he couldn't change the fact that her life as she had known it had been ruined. There was no going back to the bliss she'd had only months ago. Amanda had been tainted by the world's contempt. She now knew how it felt to be hunted and despised and she, in turn, had learned that she could trust no one but Nolan and her father. And perhaps not even them. After all, David's secrets could be the reason behind all of this.

Everyone...they were just enemies in waiting.

All of them.

And Emily could never let herself forget that.

The girl had told her herself that she would sleep, and when she woke, when she stepped onto European soil, she would truly _be_ Emily Thorne. Reinvented, reborn into the elegant, ruthless woman she so longed to become.

The girl did not dream, she may not have even truly slept - it was more that she reclined in her seat and sank into her own mind. She thought of the school, what it would be like, if she might actually make friends in her new life.

A friend...

No, she knew she couldn't have that.

The best she could expect was for people to only know her mask, but never the true face behind it. She already knew what she could expect from people on learning who she was...she wouldn't have any true friendships, she couldn't. No relationship she had from now on could be true, not as long as her father was in prison and she had to live under a false identity.

Emily told herself that she could live with it - for this to work, she would have to.

* * *

It was hours before the plane touched down and Emily Thorne emerged.

She'd freshened up in the plane, brushing her hair, washing her face and then reapplying her makeup. The plane door opened and after thanking Nolan's pilot, she stepped out, a soft smile on her red glossed lips. Decked out in the distinctive Burberry plaid, sky-high heels and oversized sunglasses, Emily was the very picture of spoiled American privilege.

A car had been sent to take her from the airport to the school dorm where she could get settled before class orientation began in the next few days. She was grateful for the time she could use to adjust to this, yet another new reality. She wanted to start the school year fresh, unburdened by jetlag and culture shock. She wanted to learn her way around the faculty, school campus and city surrounding it. Knowledge was power, of course, and Emily knew better than anyone the danger of ignorance.

The girl made quick work of checking in at the housing desk with her new identification and receiving her dorm key. The clerk there was nice enough, but Emily wasn't ready to start making her true first impressions yet; better to hide and make no impression for the time being.

Grateful that no one was around to see her struggling to drag her luggage up the stairs while in heels, Emily found what she was looking for. Dorm #214. Quickly, she unlocked the door, dragged her suitcases inside and shut the door behind her, feeling like she could finally breathe again as she leaned her back against it.

She took in a deep breath as she cast her eyes about the barren space.

It was a single dorm on the second floor of the building. Being that the school was so elite, her dorm better resembled a studio apartment or hotel room more than the painted cinderblock dorms she knew most universities boasted. Still, it was empty. The walls were bare, the bed linens were bright and plain, clinical white. The provided desk and shelving unit was empty as well.

Emily crossed to the window and smiled to find that it had a Juliet balcony overlooking a courtyard with picnic tables and flowerbeds. She was glad for this, a pleasant view and that her room was only on the second floor, in case she needed to escape. A good spy could always escape from any situation.

Emily opened the window to let in fresh air and sat on the end of the bed, thinking. There was a lot to do before classes began. She wanted to write a letter to her father - assuming that he was still in Lockhart. After she'd been photographed leaving the prison, there had been coverage of protests at the gate but no word on whether or not David had been transferred to a different location.

Emily sighed. This new life Nolan had given her was like a prison cell, but she immediately stopped the thought. Her father's life had been ruined and he was spending his days in a real cell. Her life had been greatly changed, but it would only serve as a cage if she let it. She may be living under a new name and appearance but what came in the next few weeks was all within her control.

In Millhouse she had been a prisoner - here, she could be anything she chose.

She could decorate the room however she chose. When outside of her school uniform she could dress however she chose. After class and on the weekends, she could go where she pleased.

In time, she could become who she wanted to be.

Still, there were pressing unanswered questions.

When would she ever see her father again?

When would it be safe for her to return?

Would she see Nolan again?

Anxiety over the uncertain future gripped her, but Emily stopped, smothering out her fear and letting cold logic rise above it. She had to master that weakness within herself and assert control wherever she could; otherwise she would always feel afraid, paralyzed and powerless like she had the night of her father's arrest. _No!_ She couldn't allow that to happen again.

 _Never again._

Emily took in a deep breath to steady herself, and organized her thoughts.

 _First things first_.

Needing to busy her hands, she began to unpack her luggage, hanging up her clothes in the closet and placing the rest in the dorm dresser. She lined up her shoes along the closet floor. She took out the campus map she'd been given along with her key from the housing desk and located the school store where she could buy some things to make the space feel more personal. Some books for pleasure reading, maybe a flag for the wall. God knew she couldn't put up any family pictures.

This was the first day of her new life.

Emily took up her purse and new key, then strode out the door.

* * *

It was not as difficult as Emily had expected, starting school in a new place, completely alone. Rather than concern herself with making friends or where to sit during lunch - she chose to hide away in the library - she had thrown herself into her schoolwork. It was easier, safer, to focus on the history and math equations in front of her instead of the people around her and everything she had left behind.

This was the point, wasn't it? For her to be safe and far from the insanity that was engulfing her home country after 197.

Just on looking at her, no one could guess who she was. Black hair, heavy eyeliner and her nose always in a book, she was a quiet, focused goth girl, now. A far cry from the bubbly blonde she'd been before the day the world went mad.

Yes.

Better to concentrate on her schoolwork than on connecting with anyone yet.

Three weeks into the semester and Emily looked over her assignments. Three As and a B+...fine grades, to be sure, but Emily felt the yearning to be _better,_ to be the best student in her year. If she was to be known at all, she wanted to be known for the right reasons. She was a complete outsider here, a new money American known only through her family connection to Nolan Ross. The other students, international heirs of old money, were giving her a wide berth and taking a "wait and see" approach with her.

That was all right with Emily. She would prove herself in time, once she was ready to make a few surface connections. She had volunteered for the volleyball team and chess club, and had made something of a name for herself already in PE class - all her running up and down Nolan's beach had paid off.

Emily was finding that she enjoyed school and the routines she'd built so far. It was a careful, lonely life that she was living now. She woke early in the morning, put on her uniform, immersed herself in classes for the day and then returned to her dorm for homework and once that was done she would do some pleasure reading or just watch television. Occasionally she would break from routine and go off-campus after class; sometimes she'd treat herself to a coffee and a croissant, sometimes she'd just find a place to sit and watch the people passing around her.

If given the choice, of course Emily would prefer to be back in the Hamptons with Nolan - or better yet, living the fantasy life she so often envisioned with her father freed and the three of them traveling the world together.

That was a long way off, Emily knew, but the hope was still there. It always would be.

Even with her new life being so far from ideal, Emily was content enough with the way things were. After all, she didn't have any other choice. For now.

* * *

In sending Emily away, Nolan knew that he was taking the coward's way out. Sending the girl away instead of keeping her under his wing, sending her away to the Old World so that he could go on living as a vapid new money celebrity...but she had to go, she had to get away from all this. By all accounts he was successful in scrubbing himself of any alleged connection to David Clarke, but even after sending Amanda away, he had still been harassed by that one woman from the pier, and if she wasn't screaming at the front of his house, then she seemed to somehow always be wherever Nolan happened to go when he ventured into town.

In a matter of days he had been quick to rid himself of the Hamptons house and return to the city, having found a chic apartment with a great view of the park. There was a second bedroom, for when Emily came back to him. Ideally, she would come back for Christmas break and they would go see David, twice if Denise could manage it. In a perfect world, David would be free well before then and the Clarke family could reunite. Nolan wasn't sure where that would leave him, but he supposed it didn't matter. The world was not perfect and David wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

The case against him was strong. Too strong, Nolan feared.

Nolan pitied Emily. He would never stop fighting for David, but there was no way that man would be out of prison before the girl finished the school year. And he had set her alone into the world with a new name, a new past and a great gaping blank of a future. He was a selfish bastard.

David had said as much when Nolan had told him what he'd done.

"You sent her away."

"I gave her a new identity - no one will know who she is, she'll be safe there. I sent her to that school in Europe she was already set to attend."

"Yes...but that was before all this." David sputtered at him, disbelief and outrage coloring his face. "Nolan, Amanda needs someone! She needs _you_ and you sent her away!"

"David...come on, you know I don't know how to be a dad."

"I'm not asking you to be! Amanda has a father...I may never hold her again, but I'll always be her father. What she needs now is a _friend_ , you were the only one I trusted with her and you sent her to the other side of the planet!"

Nolan had been quick to bring up his tablet, and the file he had been using to track her progress. He could feel shame rising within him, sudden desperation to prove to David that he'd been right to send her away, that this betrayal could somehow be justified to the man. "She's settled into her class schedule and she's already made three As and a B+ on their fist graded assignments. See? She's doing fine! Amanda doesn't need me."

"You've provided for her, Nolan, I knew you would. But she needs more than that, you know she does. Have you even spoken to her since you sent her away?"

Nolan swallowed, hating himself. "No...no, I told her that it would be better for her to just get on the plane and not look back-"

There was barely a moment to react before David had lunged at him from across the table, hard hands fisting into Nolan's shirt and shaking him hard as he yelled, "You call her, Nolan! Call her, damn it! Talk to her, make sure that she's all right! Talk to her, listen to her voice and tell me she's happy!"

Guards had rushed into the room and pried David off of Nolan, but not before the man gave him a hard slap to drive home his point. The guards separated them and dragged David away, toward the corridor that would lead back to his cell. David didn't seem to care about being man-handled by the guards as they pulled him away, still calling back to Nolan, "You call her Nolan, you talk to her!"

"I will, I promise! David, I'm sorry..." Nolan called out his apology, but it did no good. David was gone and Nolan was alone.

Alone with his word to the man.

* * *

Emily raised a brow on finding a small package in her dorm mailbox. So far she hadn't received any mail and she hadn't expected to; she checked the box each day, more out of habit than anything else, and each day it had been empty.

Until now.

She smiled to see that the package was addressed to her with a hand-written label, and she immediately recognized the hand that wrote it. She hustled up the stairs to her room and kicked the door shut behind her, letting her backpack thump onto the floor as she tore into the little package Nolan had sent.

Inside the package was a small enamel box and inside that she found what she at first thought to be a simple figurine of a whale. Emily turned it over in her hands and raised a brow to see that, under the whale there was a round piece of glass. It was a lens.

Emily looked into the box it had come in and found a small note : **TURN MY TAIL TO TURN ME ON!**

She understood, then. It was a computer camera.

She set the whale over her computer monitor and twisted its tail. The whale's eyes blinked on, tiny red pinpoints of light.

She looked to her computer and, seeing a new icon appear on the desktop, she clicked it.

The screen blipped and there he was: Nolan Ross in all his glory and smiling at her from the other side of the world.

A great swell of happiness rose in Emily's chest at the sight of the man.

"Nolan, hi!" Emily blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden tears in her eyes and reigned herself in from reaching forward, trying to touch him through the screen.

Likewise, Nolan fought to keep his voice steady when he spoke with her. It was stronger than he'd expected, his reaction to seeing her again. His sidekick, his friend. He quickly cleared his throat. "Ahem, ah - hi yourself! I didn't expect to see you so soon - how have you been settling in?"

"Pretty well. They gave me a single dorm." Emily lifted the whale camera and guided it about the space, giving him a quick tour to show how she'd decorated and settled into her home away from home. The room was still relatively Spartan, but Emily had done the best with it that she could. A few landscape pictures and an American flag on the walls, purple throw pillows on her bed and five new spy novels on the shelf.

On seeing the tech magazine she'd left out that had his picture on the cover, Nolan had to laugh. "I like what you've done with the place."

Emily blushed a bit, caught out. She hadn't expressly been looking for him in the magazine display at the bookstore she'd found her way into a few blocks north of the school, but when she'd seen Nolan on the cover she hadn't been able to stop herself from adding the magazine to her shopping. He might be her "cousin", but she was still his biggest fan. The girl didn't say anything as she replaced the camera so they could talk to each other again.

"I thought it would be nice for you to have your own space. Plus we won't have to worry about any nosy roommates when we talk like this." Nolan reasoned.

"You always have a plan."

"A man tries. How are your classes?"

"So far, so good. But it's been weeks since I got here and this is the first time you contacted me. Do you have news?" She pressed. Emily wasn't mad at his lack of contact, exactly, for the past few weeks had flown by...but she would have liked it if he had called to check on her before now.

"I wish I had better news. I've anonymously provided David the best of the best defense consultants to assist his lawyers, but there's no way that this is going to be over anytime soon. Once they even get to trial it'll take a very long time before any final judgements are made. Denise is feeding me a little bit at a time and the whole thing just seems to keep getting bigger." Nolan was not exaggerating - the conspiracy was proving to have more layers than any of them had initially thought.

"I...understand." The girl was disappointed; in her bones, she knew that this would get worse before it got better, but she still wished for the magic wand effect: for all of this madness to simply disappear, for her fantasy life with Nolan and her father to fall into place without a breath of struggle.

But that wasn't her life. Her life was separation and secrecy now.

"Chin up, Emily. It's early days yet, and I won't stop fighting."

"I know." Emily took a deep breath, wanting to ask the question but afraid of the answer. "Nolan, can I come back to stay with you at Christmas? I want to see dad."

"Why are you asking?" The man scoffed, "You're coming back for every holiday break and during the summers."

Emily blinked rapidly again, damn her tears. "You really mean that?"

Why had she ever doubted him, why had she let herself think he would do such a thing as abandon her? Nolan was loyal and what's more, she knew he loved her. He had only sent her away to school, he hadn't sent her away forever.

The reassurance lifted a massive weight from her chest, the weight of uncertainty. All at once she felt wonderful, more driven, for if she worked hard throughout her first semester, then the break for Christmas would arrive that much sooner, she would be _home_ that much sooner.

"As long as you keep your grades up, yes. I know a guy who's dying to see you."

Emily immediately sobered. "How is he?"

Nolan clenched his jaw, recalling the hit that had landed in the visitation room. He'd been struck more in the past summer - by Marco, by the upset man on the pier, by David - than he had in the last several years. "David is...he's staying strong. He's glad that you're doing so well in school, he wants you to keep working hard and to make the most of your time here. But I wasn't talking about him. I think I got used to you. Even being back to work, my life seems too quiet now."

"Then I'll be sure to make a lot of noise for you when I come back."

"Ah, kid, you'll be home before you know it. I...Emily I'm sorry that I sent you away, but I really did think it would be safer for you to be away from all this. I still do." Nolan's voice had grown quieter, less jovial.

Emily watched her friend. She could see that his choice was weighing on him, it likely had been for weeks. She didn't want him feeling guilty, she had already cost him so much. "I understand why you did what you did, Nolan. I won't forgive you, because there's nothing to forgive."

The man let out a harsh breath, spearing his fingers through his blue-black hair. "Thank you, Ems...I think I needed to hear that. So, um, why don't you show me your view? I want to see what you see."

Emily picked up the whale cam again and guided it to the window, ensuring he could see out and down into the courtyard. Two boys from her history class were sitting at one of the picnic tables, enjoying the late afternoon breeze with some German board game set between them. "They seem nice," Nolan remarked from the computer monitor. "Are they your friends?"

"No. I have a class with them but we aren't friends."

"You should invite them out after class for a soda or something."

Emily ignored that comment, she knew what Nolan was doing, urging her toward the roots of a normal life - namely, friends - but how could she hope to have anything like a normal life when it would all be founded on a pile of lies?

"Soda isn't so popular out here, Nolan, they're all about the coffee."

Nolan raised his own steaming coffee mug in a toast to the camera. Full roast Arabica beans with just a touch of caramel cream, his new favorite. "Careful, that stuff will kill ya!"

She rolled her eyes at his warning. "I'll take my chances."

"Just don't drink too much, it could stunt your growth."

"I'm about as tall as I need to be." She said. "I found this pretty cafe a few blocks from the school, I go there after class sometimes."

"You're going off-campus? Isn't there a school cafe you could use?" Nolan asked, immediately concerned.

"There isn't anything like that here for the lower classmen. There's a school store and the cafeteria, but we can't just hang out in there."

 _I don't want you wandering the city by yourself._

 _Stay on the campus and in your dorm._

 _You know that's not safe._

Nolan wanted to say all of this to her - reign in her wanderlust, but he bit it back, that protective impulse. He had already taken major life choices out of her hands - from her new name to her appearance to the continent where she now lived - and she had trusted him to do so. He had agreed to be something of a partner to Emily rather than act as an overbearing guardian. He had to trust her to be responsible and safe in her new city. She deserved that from him.

Still, Nolan wasn't impressed that there wasn't some kind of cafe or recreation spot for the freshmen students on campus. Hell, even Hogwarts had common rooms for each student house. He might have to fix that. "You'd think that the student accommodations would be a little nicer for the price of their tuition."

"I think most of the money goes toward the schooling part of this school, Nolan."

"School - you know, I never had much use for it, myself."

Emily raised a brow at him, "Can I drop out like you did?"

"Sure, soon as you rewrite the tech landscape with your innovative genius."

On this, Nolan had a point. He hadn't found much use for school because his ideas and inventions had been so far beyond the classroom. Emily might serve a decent volleyball but she was in no way stellar. "I'll get right on that."

"Ems, I would like to keep talking but I have a client meeting in about fifteen minutes." He said, turning his own camera to show her that he was in his office and not at the house as she'd assumed. She had read in the magazine that he'd opened the NolCorp offices again; the man was back at work, which meant a great new invention would hit the market in the next year, but Emily would have it in her hands before anyone else. Perks of the family business. "Keep an eye on your mailbox, I'll be sending you some comforts from home."

"Really?" Emily smiled at him, wondering what treats she could expect from him.

"Of course. No girl should be without her favorite magazines."

" _Playboy_?"

"Whoa!" Nolan almost spilled his coffee at that. "I was thinking more along the lines of _Glamour_ and _Cosmo,_ but it's good to know you're exploring yourself over there."

"I was just joking!" Emily laughed with him.

"God, I hope so." Nolan wasn't so comfortable with Emily that he would talk at length about porn or sex - not even as a joke. "I'm going to visit your father next week. I can get a message from him to you."

"Thank you, that would really be great."

"Good night Ems."

"Goodbye, Nolan."

She twisted the whale's fin and cut their connection.

At opposite ends of the world, they were alone again.


	17. Chapter 17

It became easier as the days went on.

Emily embraced the simple routines she'd built. Tuesdays and Thursdays after class she could be found in her favored cafe nursing a coffee or one of the green teas she'd come to like. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays would find Emily running along the river or around the campus track. She was usually alone, understandably, but she had made the effort to make acquaintance with a few of her classmates.

The boys she'd seen from her window and a few girls from the volleyball team. Emily had made the cut and found she enjoyed it, the camaraderie borne of competition. Even if only on the court, she trusted her teammates.

She and Nolan would speak once a week to check in.

Emily looked forward to seeing him more than she should. He was her only tie to the truth of who she was, and it was pleasing to have his full attention whether he spoke to her from his city office or his new apartment. The new apartment they would share when she came back for the winter break between semesters, Nolan had promised her.

She wanted to see the new loft in person, not through Nolan's camera.

It was something she looked forward to, returning home to family. Nolan had a gift for easing the pain of separation from her father and she was sure he had no shortage of activities planned for them.

She'd written several letters to her father and in turn, he had written to her. Every letter from David told her how sorry he was that she had been caught in this storm, how much he loved her and how he dreamed of a life for them after everything was over.

It was a dream Emily shared, though David's letters never mentioned Nolan coming away to live with them.

David would provide his letters to Nolan, who sent them to her under an alias. Emily couldn't keep the letters, of course. Her dorm room wasn't a vault, it'd be nothing for someone grown curious about the cousin of Nolan Ross to get into her room and find a pack of letters addressed to Amanda Clarke.

Rather, Emily read her father's letters, absorbing his wisdom and love...and then burned every page.

This was a trick from her novels. The spies always burned away paper trails that could lead back to their true identities, and this was no different. It was too big of a risk to keep anything that could even hint at a connection to her father. Emily's room gave nothing away; the only unique item was Nolan's whale cam, such a small thing that any thief would surely overlook it.

Today was a Friday, but rather than her evening run Emily had decided she wanted to pop in to the bookstore. A new novel or fashion magazine, or maybe one of the Harlequin romances she'd seen on the shelves but had always been too embarrassed to read in the store - it was cheap smut in those pages, but she was tempted by the thrill of it.

Emily caught her reflection in the window of a shop as she headed to the bookstore. She still wasn't fully comfortable with her appearance, but she knew her comfort wasn't a top priority. Maintaining her safety and anonymity was paramount - what did it matter that her hair was jet black and her nose was pinched by the vanity glasses Nolan had provided? All spies wore disguises, it was just something to become accustomed to as part of her new life.

If she was to excel in school and grow into the woman who would take down the Initiative, then she would learn to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

She gave a shake to her head as she continued walking, letting her hair flow down past her shoulders in a shining black wave. It all came down to confidence, Emily recalled. A spy could wear anything but to pull off their disguise, they had to carry themselves with enough confidence to fool the enemy.

She smiled to herself; she was getting away with this ruse so far.

With that thought in mind to cheer her, Emily stepped into the bookstore - and stopped dead in her tracks.

Her father!

David Clarke, his picture was right there on the front of a novel, his mugshot spliced with his business headshot. An entire display stand was centered in the store.

 _The Society Connection: David Clarke and the Flight 197 Tragedy_

Keeping her face as neutral as she could, Emily approached the display. The girl didn't look at the dust jacket, the summary or the author's biography. She simply took the book over to the counter and bought it, her hands clenched on the cover.

Feeling numb, she walked back toward the dorms, the book clutched to her chest like a shield. She grit her teeth, already certain of the lies it would tell. Sensationalistic trash. It had barely been six months since 197, the investigation was nowhere near complete and her father hadn't been to trial - this book was nothing but a collection of news bites and speculation, all of it painting her father as the criminal mastermind playing puppet master with innocent people's lives.

Emily spent the whole of the weekend reading the book and looking into the author.

Mason Treadwell. A quick Internet search told her that the man had written a few books before this trash, nothing she had ever heard of before and nothing that had sold. So he was just a hack grabbing at the first opportunity to make some money.

Emily _hated_ this man.

She hated him more with every page turned, with every lie read. Wild tales of her father being involved with embezzling from charities, wild orgies while he lived abroad, cover-ups of DUIs and drugs...all of which was backed up by "reliable sources close to the subject."

Emily sneered. She could guess who these "reliable sources" were, all too easily.

She turned on the whale cam, but Nolan was away from his computer. Fuming, Emily threw the book across the room, unsatisfied when it just hit the wall and flopped down to the floor. She wanted to throw the book right into Mason Treadwell's stupid, smug face - never mind his glasses, they were probably fake anyway. Everything about this foppish man was just so pretentious it made her sick.

She looked online for the man again, found video clips and hated him ten times more on hearing his voice. The man was a caricature of elite wealth. Everything he said smacked of play-acting after the way he must think a genuine intellectual would sound; he used twenty words when five would do, made fluid gestures with his hands, and he was taking on some slight accent to make himself sound exotic on top of everything else.

Emily kept up her search for awhile longer, seeing that he was making his way through the talk-show circuit and doing book signings at Barnes & Noble, going on the radio to promote his book and he was even in talks of developing a film based on the findings of his "research".

This fraud was just another leech benefitting off of her father's misery. The members of Americon Initiative, the Graysons, Mason Treadwell, and who knew how many others were out there, just waiting their turn to sink their claws into the Clarke name?

It had been open season on her father for months, but he hadn't even been able to make a statement to the press to declare his innocence. He wouldn't get a chance for a fair trial - in the eyes of the world, her father was guilty. David Clarke was every inch the cold-blooded monster the media had built.

Inside, Amanda was crying, but Emily refused to let a tear fall. She had to push herself against something to feel productive, that her time in this school would accomplish something other than what showed on her report card. She hadn't lost sight of her dream, to grow into a woman that would expose the Initiative...and maybe Mason Treadwell, too.

Emily paced the length of her room, a caged tiger.

He deserved it, didn't he? A man like him, who would trample a good man's name just to sell a book - a man who would do that couldn't be a man of morals, a man who would do this could be capable of anything. For all anyone knew, Mason Treadwell could be a part of the Initiative, just adding insult to injury by publicly profiting off of her father's destruction.

Emily added his name to the list of people she was intent to expose. The Initiative. The Graysons. Mason Treadwell. She would show them all for what they were.

The girl pictured it. Herself, gorgeous and ruthless as a grown woman, listing out all her gathered evidence against the people who had framed her father - videos and pictures and paperwork and audio recordings! The police would make instant arrests, the media would rip their lives apart and her father would be fully exonerated, his name completely restored.

And through it all, Nolan would be there with her.

He would help her become that woman, that vicious, beautiful Valkyrie.

Emily closed her eyes and flopped back onto her bed, picturing all the ways that Nolan would guide her. In pretending a family connection, he could introduce her into circles of power and influence, the money he provided her would help to craft the image she wanted. Nolan would take her where she needed to go, help her do all that needed to be done...and there would be some fun had along the way, she knew. Hadn't Nolan mentioned taking her on a real date for her eighteenth birthday? Or, as real as could be, given his preferences.

Emily ignored that pesky detail as she imagined her birthday date with Nolan. He would pick her up at the door in that black suit she liked him in, he'd tell her how pretty she looked in her dress, he'd take her out for a great dinner and then give her a kiss. In her mind, their date jumped from a kiss to them together in bed, which shocked Emily into opening her eyes and sitting up, dispelling the scene from her mind.

Emily rubbed at her arms, disturbed with her heated flash of imagination. It was wrong to think of Nolan like that, she knew. He would never be available to her that way and pining for him was futile. She shook her head and went into the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face and neck.

What was wrong with her, thinking of such a thing? She loved Nolan, but she didn't love him as woman loved her man, she couldn't; simply, she didn't know how to love a man. Her attraction to Nolan was just because they'd spent the summer together and he'd gone to such lengths to help her. Just a crush, that's all it was. That's all it could be.

The girl knew that if any such dinner took place on her birthday, Nolan wouldn't kiss her and he certainly wouldn't usher her into womanhood by taking her to bed. The man would never be her lover, Nolan was already her partner in this scheme of theirs.

She could give up her crush but she wouldn't give up on him, just as she knew he would never give up on her.

They were in this together. What that meant for their future remained to be seen.

* * *

Nolan's next visit to David was thankfully more civil than the last. After David's assault - justified, in his opinion - the precaution of handcuffing his hands to a bar on the table was taken, leaving him restrained as the men conducted their discussion.

Nolan hated this, seeing David so...diminished. He, who was such a mentor to him, such an accomplished business man, a philanthropist and teacher. David was still Nolan's hero, yet it killed him to see his hero fall so far and fast. Overnight, David had gone from a respected businessman to an accused terrorist and prisoner. The constant stress was taking its toll on the man, he'd lost weight and hair, dark circles hung under his bloodshot eyes and there was no hiding the bruising on the man's face, that had been present every time Nolan had seen him.

Nolan was providing as much legal help to David as he could, which was near to nothing as David rejected his every attempt to assist. But that was an argument they could have on another visit. This visit was all about the girl, and they had to be quick.

Nolan adjusted his watch, removing a dime-sized disc from the face and casually slid it over to David in the guise of reaching to touch the man's hand in a gesture of comfort. David looked at the tiny thing; it looked like a smooth silver dime, nothing special.

"What is this?"

"Talk into it. It's a recorder, I'll make sure Emily gets the message."

"Emily?"

"Oh, sorry! I didn't get to tell you, you know, before you flipped out on me last month." Nolan groused. "It's part of her new identity. She's Emily Thorne now."

"Emily is her middle name."

"Yes, and Thorne is just a name Amanda gave to her personal shopper in the Hamptons and it's the maiden name of some removed aunt I've added to the Ross family tree. All the better to keep up the idea that she's my cousin."

"Oh...all right." David hadn't thought anything of Amanda's new name when Nolan had first told him. It made sense, Amanda Clarke would never be safe but Emily Thorne was just another student. His daughter was safe to live her life in anonymity, thanks to Nolan. "How will you get the message to her?"

"I set her up at the school. She has a room to herself and I took your advice and did better than just call, we talk online all the time now. She doesn't know it, but I've looked into most of her classmates and teachers. As far as I can tell, she's safe there. I know you've been writing letters but I think it's time for a more personal touch. Now, just press it, talk into that disc and I'll send her the sound file."

David took up the disc and did as Nolan told him, lightly squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. A pinpoint of green light lit up in the coin's center; it was live and recording.

David cleared his throat and looked away from Nolan, feeling awkward about the situation. It was unnerving to have the other man sitting just three feet across from him as he tried to be heartfelt in speaking to his daughter.

Still, needs must...

"I...um, hello Amanda, it's your father. Nolan visited me today, he still comes in to talk about the trial, but we always talk about you, too. He's told me about your new name, Emily Thorne. He also told me he sent you away to school...and that you're happy there. I'm sorry I can't see that for myself. More than you could ever know. That's all I ever wanted, for you to be happy. I'm very grateful that Nolan has been so willing to help us. I owe him more than I can ever repay. I hope you'll continue to work hard in class and that you'll make friends. After everything that's happened since...since that night, you deserve the life we'd been planning for you. Nothing else has gone the way we'd planned but this is your chance to build something for _you_. I love you Amanda, and I'll see you soon."

Nolan cleared his throat, moved by David's words and perversely jealous of Amanda. How different would his life have been, how different a man would he be now, if only his own father had loved him? He hadn't needed a great gush of sentiment, that wasn't something he could expect from his father. The man had always been lost in his wartime memories - but the occasional kind word, a "good job" when he'd brought home his flawless report cards or science fair trophies, a "congratulations" when he'd graduated from high school or was admitted to MIT...but no, Nolan had either been ignored completely or dismissed as worthless because he wasn't interested in the same things as his father, namely football, the military or whatever had been under the hood of that old truck that had been in the garage for decades, in constant need of repair.

 _He knew damn well that I could've had his stupid truck running like a champ but Dad never let me touch it, not even once..._

Nolan dismissed the thought and returned to the present. Their visitation time was almost up. He gestured to the disc. "Ok, finished?"

"Yes." David passed the disc back to Nolan in the guise of a handshake, who then just as discreetly slipped it back into the face of his watch. It was how he had avoided the prison metal detectors and the ah, overly _aggressive_ frisking he'd been greeted with as part of the new security measures that had been put in place since it had been revealed that Lockhart was housing David Clarke.

If Nolan _ever_ got his hands on that photographer who had sold Amanda's picture...

"All right. I'll just upload that and send it to her." Nolan said. He already had a few ideas. Maybe he'd upload David's message into a stuffed bear or a specialized book, something tangible for Amanda. Then again, that might be too big of a risk.

Well, Nolan would figure out something. He always did.

"Thank you, Nolan."

"No prob, Bob." Nolan's smile faded at David's unhappy expression. "David, hey, Em - Amanda, she'll be fine. I know she will. You raised a tough kid."

"I did my best with her, but there's not a kid in the world who could go through all this and come away unscathed. I'm afraid for her, Nolan. Everything I wanted her to become, none of it will happen now."

"You don't know that. She's going to the school you wanted for her, she'll probably make some friends soon and get through this thing. David she can still have everything that you wanted for her."

"I wish I could believe that-"

"Clarke, time's up."

David sagged in his chair, resigned. Their visit was over, with so much more left to say. David had no one to talk to about this, no one to confide in about the fear for his daughter. And God, was he afraid for Amanda. Less afraid now, knowing that Nolan had taken such care of her...but he had to wonder if there would still be a place for him in her life once he was finally free.


	18. Chapter 18

Emily was eager as she tore into the latest package from Nolan. The man had been true to his word, sending her several little comforts from home over the past few months: lip glosses and an upscale vanilla perfume that she assumed Denise had suggested to him, cans of her favored soda, a signed Yankees ball cap with the promise that they would attend a few games the following summer, a bartender's recipe guide and a NolCorp hoodie.

She didn't know what to expect this time, maybe the prototype cell phone he'd been going on about during their online talks or a new music player since she'd dropped hers while on a run and completely shattered the screen - she was still mad at herself over that.

Emily opened the small package and was delighted to find a simple wooden jewelry box with a rose carved into the top along with a small velvet black box. Nolan hadn't sent her anything precious before, and she hadn't been into the habit of wearing much jewelry before coming to school.

Well, whatever it was, Emily would wear it every day!

Emily opened the box to find earrings. A pair of dove grey pearl studs greeted her, so charming and simple. Emily loved them at first sight, and Nolan was so thoughtful - these earrings would fit her new look and they fell in with the school's dress code. Giggly in her happiness, she rushed over to the mirror and slipped the studs into her ears. Yes the pearls were plain, and as she planned on wearing them through the day they would be hidden by her hair - but to Emily they were absolutely perfect.

She smiled at her reflection and switched on the whale's tail so she could thank the man. Nolan was there on the screen, his expression momentarily distracted. He'd been working on something, clearly, but he smiled when he saw her pop up on his monitor.

"Oh hey, Ems. How are you?"

"Nolan! I got your gift!" She gushed.

He raised a brow at that. He'd sent so much that he'd lost track. "Which one? I've sent you a lot lately. How'd that hoodie fit you?"

"It's fine, I usually sleep in it." Emily dismissed. "I was talking about these!" She swept her hair back and leaned in closer to the camera so he could see that she was wearing the earrings.

Nolan brightened on recognizing them. "Oh, those little beauties! I was hoping you'd get them this week. Did you get the message?"

"What message, what do you mean?" There hadn't been a note in the package.

"You ought to know by now that I am all about the tech." He winked at her. "Those earrings are only meant to look like pearls, but really they're a finely bonded alloy that allows for...you know what, never mind, it's time for some Show & Tell." Nolan knew the girl was sharp but why bore her with the schematics? "Take off the earrings and press them together."

Emily didn't know what to expect as she did as instructed, taking out one earring and then the other, touching the pearls together, but they practically jumped out of her hands to connect like magnets!

The girl didn't understand the point of magnetized earrings, but everything stopped once she heard _his_ voice.

"Hello Amanda, it's your father. Nolan visited me today, he still comes in to talk about the trial, but we always talk about you, too. He's told me about your new name, Emily Thorne. He also told me he sent you away to school...and that you're happy there. I'm sorry I can't see that for myself. More than you could ever know. That's all I ever wanted, for you to be happy. I'm very grateful that Nolan has been so willing to help us. I owe him more than I can ever repay. I hope you'll continue to work hard in class and that you'll make friends. After everything that's happened since...since that night, you deserve the life we'd been planning for you. Nothing else has gone the way we'd planned but this is your chance to build something for _you_. I love you Amanda, and I'll see you soon."

David's message ended, her dorm room suddenly so silent.

Emily looked to the screen, to the man who, for a brief time, had brought her father back to her. "Nolan...I..."

The man saw the tears in her eyes and warned her, "Hey, hey, none of that, Ems! No crying in baseball, right?"

What a time to quote _A League of Their Own_. Leave it to Nolan. The girl barked out a laugh through her tears, "I play volleyball so I can cry if I want."

"Fair point." Nolan could give her that one. "Don't lose those earrings."

"I would never!"

"Good. Keep them in the jewelry box when you're not wearing them, just like the earrings the jewelry box isn't what it seems. It has a fingerprint scanner in the direct center of the rose to ensure that you and _only_ you can open it. This way in case anyone steals the box they'll never get at what's inside it, plus I can wipe everything inside remotely. God, I'm a genius!" He gave his best mad scientist laugh for her, which had the opposite effect of making her cry.

"C'mon Ems, please don't cry."

Nolan hated to see her upset, even now when she'd been moved to tears of joy at hearing her father's message. It made him feel useless to see her in such a state, knowing just how alone she was. Even just here in their online connection, Emily appeared silhouetted thanks to the camera light, everything else around her was dimmed.

She was just a little girl crying alone in the dark.

It spoke to the strength she was building within herself, that she could bear the weight of their secrets day in and day out, never confiding the truth in anyone; of course, it was easier to keep secrets when one refused to connect with people.

"I'm trying not to! I just...it's one thing to get a letter, but hearing Dad's voice, it's different. It's wonderful." Emily swiped at the tears on her cheeks, the black tracks from her eyeliner smearing over her skin. Nolan didn't want to tell her - she was touchy where her makeup was concerned.

Nolan nodded. "I know, kid. Just keep an eye on your mailbox, my goal is to get a message from David with each visit. Soon you'll have a full jewelry box. It'll be like he's right there with you."

From thousands of miles away, the girl looked at him and felt something in her chest expand, some bizarre swell of emotion, a mix of sorrow and joy, painful in its power. She didn't have the words to voice what she was feeling, but she had to say something.

"Thank you, Nolan. You are...there's no one else like you in the whole world."

Emily's words were simple but they conveyed a depth of love that was shocking to him. The man wasn't sure what to do with it.

He cleared his throat and was quick to change the subject. "Ah huh, help me out, what do you want me to get for your room here? Anything special?"

As of now, her room in the apartment looked much like her room in his Hamptons house had - bare walls and minimal furniture. Her dorm room had more personality, which wasn't saying much though he was glad that she'd put up the American flag; Emily hadn't abandoned her country even though it had turned on her.

Emily couldn't think of anything she'd want to add to her room in Nolan's apartment; she didn't grant much importance to decor, but if he insisted when she got to the States then it would be fun to shop together. "No, no, nothing special. I'll just be happy to come home and see dad."

"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?"

"You too Nolan! I know we'll have fun in the city just like we did in the Hamptons."

He winked at her. "You know we will, I've got lots planned out for us but I won't spoil the surprise."

* * *

It was late November when Nolan next went in for his monthly visit with David. Lockhart had upgraded its security since it had been revealed that the facility was housing the most hated man in America, but Nolan was still able to bring in his bits of tech to act as the go-between between father and daughter.

Nolan didn't mind, he relished a challenge. This visit was no different.

David was brought in and the guards stepped out of the room. Nolan was excited for this and wasted no time in telling David, "I got the goods - the last game of the season!"

David raised a brow. "What're you talking about?"

Nolan smiled at him, insanely pleased with himself. He withdrew his wallet and took out a blank bank card - or, what just _looked_ like a bank card. He passed the card to David in the guise of a handshake and then he pressed a button on his watch.

David gaped as the card in his hand blinked and tiny pixels began to flicker - the card was a tiny thin screen that was showing a very faint video. "Nolan, what is this?"

"It's a prototype so the picture is pretty terrible, and I haven't been able to bring up the power for multiple viewings yet - this is only good for one look, so make it worth it."

David squinted, trying to understand what he was looking at, but then he realized. Nolan had somehow gotten a video of a girls' volleyball game - he recognized the logo and colors of Amanda's new school.

"Where is she?" David asked eagerly. The video was so fuzzy that he couldn't make out individual faces and all the girls were in uniform.

"She's the setter."

David squinted again and saw a black-haired girl where he'd expected a blonde. "She looks so different."

"I know." Nolan shrugged. "A different look, a different name...but she's the same girl, David, you know that."

"You're right, I - look at that serve!" David exclaimed. The video was tiny but he could make out enough to notice that his girl was playing to win. Pride in Amanda swept over him - she was clearly leading the team to a victory.

"Oh yeah, Emily's a powerhouse on the court. It's a good thing you raised her to be athletic."

"I never taught her volleyball." David shook his head, speaking to Nolan but his eyes were fixated on the video. "We just jogged and played a little catch here and there."

"A little went a long way. She threw herself into working out all summer in the Hamptons and now she's an MVP."

The screen went blank and David frowned, wishing he could see the end of the game, wishing more than anything that he could have seen it in person. He passed the card screen back to Nolan.

"Is she happy?"

"She's as happy as she can be. But she can tell you herself." Nolan replaced the card in his wallet and then just as quickly produced a disc from his watch. They were running out of time. He hurriedly pressed the disc and the girl's voice filled the room.

"Hi dad, it's me. I'm really looking forward to visiting over Christmas break and telling you about school, there's a lot I haven't mentioned in my letters. Nolan has sent me gifts but the best one was the message in my earrings. Nolan said he can make more jewelry so you can record a new message for me. School has been going well, I've made a few friends and the volleyball season was great - we won more games than we lost and the coach said he wants me on the team for next year. If I'm still at this school by then, I'll sign up for the team. Nolan said he can get footage of my games to you, so I hope you've been able to see us play. I can't wait to come home for Christmas, I love you dad."

The recording ended and Nolan replaced the disc in his watch. David was in tears but he smiled at Nolan. "Thank you. Thank you so much for that."

Nolan wasn't a father; he had never felt the emotional impact of a parent's separation from their child for himself, but he wasn't so ignorant that he couldn't understand what he was doing. He was doing everything in his power to bring David and Amanda together. Soon, he would be able to have them interface just as she did with Nolan through her whale camera. It was all a matter of beating the prison security, though it seemed Nolan was faced with a new set of hoops to jump through with each visit.

"Ah, huh." Nolan coughed around the tightness in is throat. "It's no problem. I'm working on a new pair of earrings for her, I'll bring them in January so you can record a different message."

"Thank you. God, Nolan, how soon until she's here?"

"I'll bring her on the next visit. I promise I will. December visit is scheduled for the 20th. She'll be back in the country a few days before that."

"What're your plans?" David was eager, almost desperate to know what Nolan and his daughter would do with their time together.

"I got a new place in the city. I'll take her there from the airstrip, and after she's rested I wanted to take her shopping to decorate her room. As of right now it's pretty bare-bones. I'll take her to a show or something, it'll be fun. But she doesn't want to hang out with me, she wants to see you. I'm just the wheel-man." Nolan shrugged.

"You're more than just a driver to her, Nolan. This whole thing, it's made you our family."

The door clanked loudly and the guards strode in. Their time, all twenty minutes of it, was up. Nolan stood up and watched as his friend was rechained and escorted from the room, back down the long corridor that lead to his cell.

David smiled at him, a strange broken thing, and Nolan nodded to him.

"We'll see you soon, David."

* * *

The flight was as long as it had been months ago, when Emily had crossed the sea to Europe to start her new life. On that flight she had slept, sinking herself into the resignation that her past had been ruined and her future would be built on lies.

This flight was different. It seemed to take longer because she was so excited to see her family again and there was more, she had grown confident in her time at school. She was more comfortable in living the lie that was Emily Thorne. She wanted the man to see the change in her. To that end, Emily had intended to dress up a bit for her arrival back to the States.

She had slept on the flight, wearing a pair of school-issued sweatpants with her NolCorp hoodie and a pair of sneakers, her hair twirled into a hasty braid. The girl glanced out the window and could see lights; her heart gave an excited thump. It wouldn't be long now.

In her mind she pictured her father meeting her there at the airstrip, but she knew that couldn't be - her father was still far out of reach, alone in his Lockhart cell.

The pilot informed her that they would land in less than twenty minutes.

Emily thanked her and began to freshen herself up, making quick work of applying makeup and adding a spritz of perfume. She brushed her hair, making sure it was smooth over her shoulders. She was wearing the first pair of earrings Nolan had gifted to her; not trusting enough to leave her dorm unattended over the holiday, she had brought the jewelry along with her.

She changed out of her lazy clothes and into a look that conveyed the image she strived for: elegant and in control, an alluring silhouette in power colors. She smoothed out her black dress, making sure no lint clung to the material. The red peacoat she would wear off the plane was over her chair in the cabin. She checked her tights for runs and was satisfied that she looked presentable, or, she would be, once she changed out of her Nikes and put on her heels.

Emily was fast becoming was a vain girl; she wanted to make an entrance.

The plane descended and touched down on the runway without a bounce of impact; Nolan's pilot was well aware of the precious cargo she was transporting and wouldn't allow Emily to suffer a moment's discomfort. Like all of Nolan's staff, the woman was a consummate professional.

The plane rolled to one of the small private hangers where a lone figure stood waiting for her. Emily smiled and felt her heart flutter at the sight of Nolan, standing tall just next to a new silver Jaguar. It was all she could do to stay seated until the plane finally stopped and the door unfolded into the descending stairway.

Emily took a deep breath and came down the stairs, trying to walk with as much grace as she could muster. It was somehow empowering to hear the hard clicks of her heels echo throughout the hangar.

She walked right up to Nolan and smiled, feeling a strange thrill _thrum_ though her veins.

The man was just as she remembered him, it felt as if no time at all had passed but something between them was different.

It was her.

For his part, there was only one thing Nolan could say.

"Welcome home, Emily Thorne."


	19. Chapter 19

Nolan watched as his plane rolled into the hangar with the most precious cargo onboard. The pilot had reported that his _cousin_ had spent most of the flight sleeping and reading. He cleared his throat as the door to the plane opened, unfolding into a small staircase. There was movement, then a burst of color as she descended.

And there she was.

A sleek black dress, tights and sky-high heels topped with a blood red coat. It was stark difference from what she usually wore when he saw her, either her school uniform or pajamas. That wasn't the only thing that was different. The girl was carrying herself with a confidence well beyond her years. She smiled as she neared him, though her steps were unhurried, measured and in control. He understood. This was her homecoming, her successful return after months of living the lies built for her safety.

"Welcome home, Emily Thorne."

She smiled, precise red lips parting over her face like a slicing wound. "It's good to be back, Nolan Ross."

The man swept her into a hug then, and the girl squealed like the child she was. He couldn't control her desire to appear more grown-up to everyone else, but he could remind her that he alone still knew the truth. She was just a girl playing dress-up.

"Oh, Ems, it's so good to see you." He exclaimed as he set her down and squeezed her shoulders, needing to feel her, to reassure himself that she was solid and real.

Emily tempered her smile and willed away the blush in her cheeks - she was so happy to be home with him again but she wanted to maintain her cool facade. "Nolan we see each other all the time."

"Yes, but online I can't take you out on the town or show you the new NolCorp offices."

Her eyes lit at that. "I can't wait."

"Emily, look at you." Nolan took her hand and twisted it above her head, having her do a slow twirl for him. "Lovely young lady, school abroad suits you."

"Do you really mean that?" She asked, eager for praise.

"I wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it."

"Thank you." Emily fingered one of the gold buttons on her coat. "I wanted to dress up a little."

"This is a _little?_ Everyone likes to make an entrance, but maybe tone it down when David sees you, all right? The black hair alone will be enough of a shock."

Emily hadn't thought of that, and though she wanted to show her father that she wasn't a little girl anymore, she had lost the edge of defiance where he was concerned. Fine, then. No makeup or heels or sleek dresses. When she next saw David, she would be as he remembered - just with darker hair.

But it would be several days before she saw David. She looked past Nolan, to the silver Jaguar quietly purring in the corner of the hangar. "New wheels?"

Nolan shrugged and started walking toward the car, Emily in step right beside him. "The lease was up on my BMW, so why not?"

"Can I drive it?"

"Sure, sure." Nolan wouldn't deny her - they had already started driving lessons in the Hamptons and the girl hadn't killed too many pedestrians, so what was the harm in picking up their lessons now that she was home with him? "Let's get you settled in first. How was the flight?"

Emily slid into the car beside him and buckled up, admiring the car's sleek interior. She had seen the upperclassmen's cars at school and, being old wealth, they all strived to top one another with the fastest and flashiest models of vehicles. Ferrari, Masterati, Bugatti. Personally she didn't care about cars, but she'd still made an effort to recognize the makes and models in the student parking lots. "Quiet and smooth, just like this car."

Nolan wheeled them out of the hangar and started onto the road that would lead them into the city. "Good. I'll make sure the pilot gets a nice bonus on her next check."

Emily shifted in her seat, looking out at the approaching New York City skyline. It was different now, forever altered thanks to the Initiative. She pushed the thought from her mind, focusing on her friend. "How have you been?"

Nolan shrugged. They spoke so often over the camera connection, but it was different to speak in person. "I've been all right. You'll see what's up when I give you the grand tour of NolCorp."

Emily knew that he had moved offices, to a smaller and much more secure building in an effort to quell the fears of his employees. His people were loyal, but 197 had made everyone afraid to return to the original sky scraping NolCorp building. The man had conceded, allowing his employees to telework for the majority of the time, and dispersing his research and development facilities throughout the state. The result had been a success so far: NolCorp had created more jobs, protected its employees and hadn't missed a beat in creating the latest and greatest in cyber tech.

Reading the articles about Nolan's decisions in business had made her proud of him - NolCorp had dipped in value during the transition phase, but Nolan had stood strong with his choice and his company had soon recovered from its losses and was now stronger than ever.

It was a short drive to get to Nolan's new apartment building, and then up to the high floors. He unlocked the door and let Emily step inside first. She walked in and looked about the space. It was a beautiful layout, though it had a similarity to Nolan's beach house in that it held no personal touches, no family pictures. Perhaps he kept his more personal things in his bedroom, but Emily had no business going in there.

The living room was furnished with dark leather and wood furniture, dark wood floors and wainscoting against the cream walls that held oil paintings of seascapes and lighthouses - perhaps Nolan missed the Hamptons more than he let on.

She turned to him and smiled. "Nolan I love it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I - oh, wow, that view!" Emily rushed to the far wall of windows. "You can see all of Central Park from here!"

She looked out and could see the neighboring buildings and the whole of Central Park laid out before her. It was a beautiful shock to see so much green spread out in the center of the city, nature tamed to man's enjoyment. She could see the cars on the street below, food carts on the sidewalk and tiny people walking throughout the park.

Nolan smiled. "The view is what sold me, Ems. Go look in your room, I made sure to get the layout with floor to ceiling windows in both bedrooms."

Emily went toward the door that Nolan indicated and found a plain full bed with dark purple blankets and sheets, an empty desk set and an empty walk-in closet to greet her. Again, she wasn't bothered by the contents or lack thereof in the room, she was instead taken with the far window wall which offered an alternate view over the park and skyline.

"I told you, I haven't put much toward the decor." Nolan told her from the doorway. Hang the stereotypes, he wasn't very interested in decorating the rest of the apartment, much less the room of a teenage girl. Looking about the space now, he felt a bit sheepish for not having put in more effort. Hell, he ought to have hired someone to decorate, that would have been better than letting Emily come home to a near empty bedroom.

The girl shook her head at him. "Don't bother, I'll be back in school soon enough."

He raised a brow, "You really want to live the Spartan life while you're here?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "I don't need too many things. Home is with you, and when he gets out, home will be with you and dad."

Nolan smiled. "I'll drink to that."

"And I can make you that drink! I've been studying up with that bartending book you sent me." Emily said, reminding him of one of the gifts he'd sent. No doubt it had been meant as a way to prevent her from making another drink like the one she had made him the night after her first visit to Lockhart - she'd poured him a full cup of vodka, thinking at the time that that was a drink he would appreciate. Now she knew better.

"Great. I'll take an Old Fashioned, and the bar is right over there." Nolan gestured to the wet bar across the living room.

The girl nodded, accepting his challenge. She crossed over to the bar and Nolan sat at a barstool to watch, curious and impressed as she moved about making his drink and then setting it before him. It was not a difficult cocktail, and Emily had made the most basic version of the drink - no citrus rind or cherry.

"Is it poison?" He asked her, eying the glass.

"It will be next time." She huffed.

Nolan took a sip and held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, savoring the bourbon. "Wow, Ems, great job!"

"I'm glad you like it."

"You're my bartender from now on, but tonight is not the night for staying in and drinking. I've got plans for us. Dinner at Nobu." Nolan slapped his palms on the counter and hopped up from the barstool.

"Nobu?"

"It's a chic spot, the perfect place to debut my wayward cousin. I hope you like sushi."

"I love it, but you want to debut me?" Emily shook her head, "I thought you wanted me to lay low, that was the whole point of sending me away."

"It was, and it still is." Nolan agreed as he disappeared into his bedroom, reemerging a moment later without his tie. "You've heard the term 'hiding in plain sight'?"

"Of course."

"Then think of this as hiding in the spotlight. No one will dig too deep if it doesn't look like I'm hiding you."

Emily furrowed her brow, considering his line of thought. What he was saying made sense, and what was more, she needed Nolan's connections to work toward her ultimate goals for the future. Added to that on a base level, she was hungry, she loved sushi and she loved going out to eat with Nolan - he was the world's best dinner date.

"Should I change my clothes?"

"No, you can keep the dress. It looks nice on you, and look, we can match." Nolan said, showing her that he'd chosen a different tie to pair with his black Oxford shirt. Where a grey paisley had been, a tie of bright scarlet now circled his throat, a compliment to her chic red peacoat and the iconic soles of her heels.

Standing side by side, black and red, they made a striking pair.

* * *

Nobu was, as Nolan had called it, a chic restaurant and the sushi was some of the best Emily had ever eaten. It wasn't something she ate often with her father, as David didn't particularly care for it. When they had eaten sushi, it had been more of a concession for his Japanese clients; her first time trying sushi had been soon after they'd moved to Tokyo for David's dealings with Takeda Industries. She'd liked it the first time she'd tried it and soon grown into a full-fledged sushi lover.

Leaving Japan for America had meant leaving her beloved rolls behind, and David had only allowed her to have sushi again on special occasions.

Nolan allowed her to order whatever she wanted, and the girl had taken full advantage - she'd eaten all of her rolls and a few of his, even snagging a few bites off his Wagyu beef. He hadn't allowed her any beer or sake of course, and she was content enough with her green tea.

Emily had been lovely company all throughout dinner, commenting on the restaurant and food, telling him this and that about the few friends she'd made at school, the classes she would be taking in the next semester and how she planned on improving her volleyball training. Nolan felt part of him unwinding as she went on talking and seeing that she was relatively satisfied - the girl could never be fully happy without her father, but for the time being she was content and that was enough.

Nolan had just ordered coffee and a dessert for them to split when he met the eyes of a familiar face at the bar. A platinum pixie haircut and bright green eyes, Rachel Woods waved at him and, on Nolan's nod, began to approach their table.

Nolan glanced at Emily and winked. "I knew it wouldn't take long."

"What?"

"Incoming."

The woman approached their table with a slightly nervous smile. She didn't want to interrupt their meal, but she had a job to do. "Mr. Ross, it's-"

"Rachel Woods, I remember you from that October piece you wrote up on NolCorp's Halloween fundraiser." Nolan stood to greet her and gave her hand a warm shake.

The woman was clearly surprised he'd remembered her so well. "I didn't think you recognized me."

"I never forget a friendly face." Nolan reclaimed his seat and gestured for her to join them in the booth, further surprising her. She had fully expected for him to dismiss her, yet here he was offering her a seat at his table. "Are you here for dinner or are you working?"

"Nobu isn't exactly my style," the woman admitted. "I'm here doing a review for the Lifestyle section. I was hoping that I could get a few words."

"Ah, all business. Of course."

"What brought you to Nobu?"

"I wanted to treat my cousin here to the best sushi in town." Nolan turned to the girl at his left and put his arm around her shoulders to give an affectionate squeeze. "Please, Rachel Woods, meet Emily Thorne."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Thorne."

Emily hurriedly swallowed her bite of beef and reached over to shake the woman's hand. "Hello."

From there, Nolan engaged the woman with a bit more small talk about the menu.

The woman was respectful toward Emily but didn't linger at their table once she'd gotten the quote and the picture of them she'd been after.

"See that, Ems? I can't hide from the media and it would have drawn more attention if I _hadn't_ told her who you were." Nolan reasoned to her. "It'll probably be just a quick line that mentions you, if anything, but it'll be enough that no one will dig too deep. Soon enough you'll be a common sight to them."

"How do you deal with the press?"

"I do my best to make friends with them. Treat people kindly and they'll remember you when it's important. Treat them badly once, and they'll never forget it. I try to keep my personal life out of the spotlight and for the most part the journalists I know have respected my boundaries. When I make headlines I want it to be because of NolCorp." He told her.

Their dessert arrived and Nolan handed her a spoon. As slender as they both were, no dessert stood a chance against them.

"Everyone at school wants to know what's next."

"I'm sure they do. Soon you'll be in a position to tell them." Nolan smiled and savored the panna cotta. It was perfect, as it had been each time he indulged his sweet tooth. "When you're old enough I want you as an intern - if you want."

Emily smiled, "That sounds great!"

"It'll just be a summer thing, but we can start it next year."

"Do you think dad will be home by then?" Emily took care to ask her question in such a way that no one who overheard would assume she meant prison. After all, they had just met with a reporter.

Nolan took another spoonful. "I wish I could say for certain one way or another."

"Has dad said anything about his girlfriend?" She pressed. It was her hope that Nolan would tell her more now that they were in person than he had in the months of speaking to each other through her monitor.

"He's said more than a few things about _her_ but nothing suitable for your ears, babe."

Of course, Nolan was still listening in on the Graysons - they still hadn't returned to the Hamptons or to the city, but last Nolan had heard, Victoria was due to deliver in another month or so. God knows what would happen if the baby was David's.

Well.

Nolan wouldn't be the one to tell Emily if that came to pass, he'd let David tell the girl.

That was one conversation he would avoid at all costs.

* * *

In the morning, Emily was awoken by a knock at her door. There was a moment where she didn't recognize her surroundings, but everything from her return to the States to dinner at Nobu flooded back to her, and Emily jumped up from her bed to answer the door. Nolan smiled at her from across her threshold, already dressed for the day, and held out a newspaper to her.

"Check it out, Ems, you're famous."

"Huh?"

"Page 5, the picture's not half bad."

"She published that article about you that fast?" Emily asked as she took the newspaper from him, recalling the reporter from Nobu. It was the Lifestyle section, and she recalled the woman who had visited their table mentioning that she had interviewed several high profile people for the restaurant review.

"What can I say? I'm big news!" Nolan boasted. "By the way, we've got a date on Broadway in a couple hours. You ever seen _Phantom_?"

"No." Emily vaguely knew the story but she'd never seen the musical before. She smiled, "We're really going?"

"You'll love it. Get dressed!" He urged her. "You slept in late today."

Emily scratched at her scalp, just behind her ear, and stifled a yawn. "I know, I'm sorry. I think the flight took more out of me than I realized."

"Do you need anything?"

"Coffee!"

"I figured." Nolan rolled his eyes. "I left some in the pot for you, cream is in the fridge."

"Thank you. I'll take a shower and start getting ready."

Nolan nodded and Emily closed her bedroom door, returning to her bed. She sat down and turned to the fifth page. There she and Nolan were, in a small picture accompanying the article centering on Nobu's new menu. Nolan had put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for the picture. The caption was simple: _NolCorp CEO Nolan Ross and cousin Emily Thorne enjoy steak and sushi at Nobu NYC._

Emily studied herself in the picture critically, divorcing her own bias from the image. It was as if she was looking at a stranger.

She didn't look anything like her former self - the sweet, sunny blonde girl she had been only months ago was now a pale goth in garish makeup. She looked completely different. That had been the aim in disguising herself and going abroad for school. The goth look had served its purpose in hiding who she had been, and it had been an aid in keeping the other students at arm's length.

Now, though...studying herself, Emily could see how harsh the black hair and red lips were against her skin. Yes she looked striking, but the sharp contrasts could be off-putting to people. She had to change, and soon. Scrap the dark makeup and do something different to her hair.

After all, if she looked more approachable then it could only aid her in the lofty goal of somehow, someday ferreting out the truth for her father.

Emily set the paper aside, decided.

It was time that she came out of hiding.

* * *

Days after the plane had crossed the sea and touched down in the States, Nolan watched from the monitor as David and Emily embraced, man and child holding tight. A beautiful sight, and would warm him deeply had their setting been anywhere else. A family reunion at the prison set to last only 20 minutes was so bittersweet, so unfair a thing.

It was close to Christmas, and Nolan's gift to them was this visit, he supposed.

Not for the first time, he wished that the warden would allow more than one person in to visit David, but the man's authority was insurmountable. Denise had done everything she could, they were blessed to have been granted the 20 minutes a month. To argue for more would cost them everything they'd gained and Nolan refused to risk that.

So, he watched the monitor, both part of and apart from the family on the screen.

* * *

Emily was quiet as they departed Lockhart, hoodie over her head and large sunglasses covering her face. After her exposure, certain precautions had to be taken. Nolan, similarly, wasn't even in the state at the moment - as far as anyone knew, he was in Tokyo...or at least his body double was. If a man with similar features was spotted at an upstate prison, then what did it matter?

Nolan wheeled the jag away from the prison and down the road that would return them to the city. Just months ago, he would have taken the same road in the opposite direction, to bring them back to the Hamptons.

There was a silence, but Emily broke it.

Not with words, but with a sob that was torn from her.

Nolan pulled the car over, off the main road and into the parking lot of a diner. He reached for her by Emily shied away, curling into herself instead. God, he hated this, to see her suffering and being helpless to stop any of it. It was wretched.

He sat, listening to her cry, waiting for her to speak.

Emily pulled a pack of Kleenex from the glovebox and dabbed at her eyes. Distantly, she was glad she'd followed Nolan's advice to skip her usual heavy makeup. She wiped the tears from her face and took several deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. She had so hoped to get through this without crying; that she had failed to control herself, and worse, cried in front of Nolan...this couldn't happen again. She had to learn how to master herself.

The girl steadied her breathing enough to take in their surroundings; they were parked in the near empty lot of some greasy spoon diner. Through the windows she could see a few police officers inside, perhaps they worked at Lockhart. Perhaps they had given her father the bruises that marred his gaunt face.

"He's suffering in there, Nolan. He won't last." Emily said, her words finally breaking the silence.

She kept her eyes on the diner. She couldn't look at him.

"He will. He has to."

His reassurance wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough until her father walked as a free man.

"How much longer until this goes to trial? He has to be found innocent and set free."

Nolan breathed out, measuring his words. "Initial court proceedings will start in the summer. You'll be home for it, but you can't be in the courtroom. You know that."

 _"I hate them!"_

He looked at her, but Emily's eyes were still focused out the window. "Them?"

"The Initiative, the Graysons, whoever else is behind this. They're the ones who crashed that plane, not dad."

"That is the truth, but the case isn't about the truth, it's just about what can actually be proven in court. It's not right, none of this is. I would change it all for you if I could, but we can only play the hand we're dealt."

"I hate this."

"I know. Me too."

He hated his helplessness. He hated that David refused his offer to help. He hated the doubts that plagued him.

Nolan reached over and took her hand into his. This time, Emily didn't reject him.

* * *

"This is my first Christmas without Dad."

It was Christmas Eve, well into the night.

Since Emily's visit to Lockhart, she had been agreeable to whatever outings and adventures Nolan suggested, but he had noticed that she was more subdued. She was often quiet, pensive, she didn't speak unless Nolan addressed her first. Too much on her mind, he was sure, and here was the proof.

The girl wanted her father.

Of all the things Nolan could give, David was the one gift too far out of reach for her this Christmas.

Nolan prepared himself yet another drink behind the bar. While she openly missed her father, he had been struggling to ignore his yearning for Marco. This wasn't how Christmas was meant to be spent. Marco should be there with him, wearing his ring.

Instead...

"I hope it'll be your last without him, Ems."

She turned away from the window and approached him at the bar. "Do you think they'll do anything nice for him today? Like let him call us?"

He didn't want to give the girl false hope. It was already late. If there was going to be a surprise Christmas phone call, it would have happened by now. "I...don't think so."

"But it's Christmas." Emily insisted as she slid onto one of the barstools. "Maybe they made a special meal for the prisoners tonight."

"Maybe." A beat. Then, "On his first Christmas home, David will eat like a king. I'll make sure of that. I'll take us all out to dinner or we'll come to mine and I'll cook up the whole kitchen."

Where he'd hoped to engage her, or at least earn a smile, the girl didn't say anything to his promise. Nothing for it, he supposed. There was nothing he could do to _make_ Emily happy. He could only support her through her low moods. Nolan took a swallow of his drink, shivering slightly as the bourbon burned its way through him.

Emily watched him sip the drink; deep liquid that turned bright amber as he brought it to his lips and the glass caught the light at just the right angle.

"Can I have a drink too?"

Nolan looked over to her, surprised she would even ask. "No."

"Please? Special occasion. It's not like I'm driving anywhere tonight."

He wanted to refuse, but the girl's logic held up. It was just a drink, and what was the harm? She'd probably gag at her first taste of it and he'd end up drinking the rest. It'd be a crime to let such rich bourbon go to waste.

"Well, Ems. When you put it like that..." Nolan moved back to the bottle and Emily watched from her seat on the barstool as if she was his regular customer and he the sympathetic barkeep. His movements were precise and well practiced in making the drink, fully expecting that he would be the one to drink it after the girl passed it back to him and swore never to touch alcohol again.

Nolan set the drink - a classic Old Fashioned - before her and watched, purely curious as Emily took a sip. He laughed as she winced and groaned at the taste. "Ugh, it's so bitter! It tastes like chemicals and it burns." Emily could feel herself salivating and swallowed, the strong taste lingering in her mouth. "That's awful!"

"You don't have to finish it." Nolan said, reaching for her glass, but Emily shook her head and left the bar, instead heading over to the sofa.

"Yes I do." She raised her chin, daring him to come and take the drink away from her. "Dad raised me to always finish what I've started."

"Far be it for me to argue with the great David Clarke." He nodded. "Go on then, but after this, the bar is closed - understand?"

"Yes. I promise." She grimaced at the taste of the bourbon as she took another sip, wondering how it was that he actually _liked_ drinking something so foul. "Ugh, God. Nolan, if this is how most drinks taste then I'll never even want to!"

Emily took another deep swallow of the drink, wincing as it burned down her throat. Nolan did his best not to laugh at her while she hissed and groaned from the bitter taste. _What a little drama queen!_

He left the bar and put on some seasonal music for them to enjoy. This wasn't how he'd expected to spend Christmas Eve, but here they both were. Emily sat on the couch and went on cringing in disgust as she forced herself to keep drinking. Nolan joined her, easily sipping his own cocktail.

Instrumental variations of _Carol of the Bells_ and _Run, Run Reindeer_ flowed around them and they were quiet for a long while, relaxing deeper into the cushions. Absently, Emily was aware that Nolan was at the other end of the sofa and he'd started fidgeting with his watch, but she was already far away from the moment.

She sat back on the sofa and took a deeper sip of her drink this time. It still tasted foul and burned her throat, but she was feeling the effect of the alcohol - her true aim in asking for a drink in the first place. She wanted to know what it would be like to just let go, to escape her own mind for a time. It wouldn't have been right to sneak a bottle behind Nolan's back, so in essence she had pleaded for him to be the one to give her this, the gift of a clouded mind.

Her thoughts wandered, traveling along the notes of the music that flowed throughout the apartment, and she thought of the future, her bright shining fantasy of freedom with her family. She could see her father, Nolan and herself walking down a beach and into a glorious sunset. They had left everything behind, all the lies and accusations and corruption; they were walking toward their new life to be spent together in freedom and happiness.

"It'll be wonderful Nolan."

Emily wasn't even aware that she'd spoken her thought until the man responded. "What will?"

"The end." Emily blinked slowly and then closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the cushion. "You'll see, it'll be great."

Nolan looked over and saw that the drink had worked its magic on the girl. "Yes it will."

"Dad will be free and we'll all be together, far away from all this."

He gave up on calibrating his watch and took it off, setting it aside. Emily's vision for the future was more interesting to him. "Where will we go?"

"I don't know. An island, somewhere. A place with no media, no one who knows who we are. We'll just be somewhere quiet where we can be safe."

That concerned Nolan. "You don't feel safe now?"

"I know we're not." Emily opened her eyes and tried to focus on him but her head swam even with the slightest movement. Her limbs felt so heavy and her body was so warm. "That's why you sent me away, so I'd be safe. So the Initiative wouldn't find me."

"Yes." He nodded. "That was part of it."

"What was the other part?"

"I wanted you away from this so you could live your life, find yourself as best you could."

"Do you regret it?"

"I don't regret doing it. I regret that it had to be done. Necessary evil."

"The only thing evil is the Initiative and the Graysons if they're a part of this. Nolan?"

"Hmm?"

"This drink...I feel...it's making me feel so warm...and..."

He sighed lightly, "You'll be all right. I shouldn't have let you have a drink in the first place, so don't tell David about this the next time you see him. He'll have my hide. Here, lay down." Nolan took the near-empty glass from her hand, then guided her to lay down, pillowing her head in his lap and he started stroking her hair.

"Will I get sick?"

Her eyes had been unfocused when she'd looked at him, and her words were slurring together. In another life, seeing her drunk for the first time would have just been funny, something to tease her about in the morning...but that wasn't their life, not anymore. Their life had become a mountain of secrets, and this girl was drinking to escape the reality of her father's imprisonment and her own exposure, the total ruin of her family.

Nolan shouldn't have allowed this, but if he was honest with himself, he knew he had been drinking to escape his own losses.

"No. You should be fine, maybe a headache in the morning but I'll make you a good breakfast to take care of that. I made the drink strong because I didn't think you would be able to finish it. You learned how to make cocktails, Ems, but you haven't learned to drink them. That's all right. There's no need to rush into things." Nolan kept on stroking her hair, thinking back on his own early adventures with alcohol. "I started drinking a beer here and there as I made it through high school. I also tried some vodka, some tequila. There were some drinks I liked more than others."

He glanced to the window and noticed that it had started snowing again. That was good, he loved a white Christmas. He continued telling his story to Emily as he watched the falling snow flurries.

"The first time I got drunk...I think I was 15, maybe? No, 16. Wait, yes! It was my 16th birthday and my friends from the science club had snuck all this liquor into the school clubhouse where we all hung out. My dad knew - his career was in the military, I've told you that. He could spot a drunk soldier a mile away so of course he could see what was right in front of him...then again, I wasn't hiding it well." Nolan laughed at the memory.

His time at home hadn't always been so awful, there had been some bright spots, very few and far between. They'd never lasted long, but his past had made him who he was now.

"The old man dragged me out of bed to go with him on a morning run before the sun was even up. He asked me point-blank if I had been out drinking with my friends the night before and I denied it. Dad called my bluff! We started running and I didn't make it 50 feet before I got sick in the middle of the street. _'That's what you get for lying_ , _boy'_ , that's what he said. Dad rubbed my back until I stopped puking, then he took me to Waffle House for breakfast. I was grounded after that, though. The usual. Yardwork, housework, and I couldn't go out for a month. It's a bittersweet memory, a lot like the bourbon."

The song in the background ended and a new one began.

The snow was still falling.

The clock struck midnight.

"It's Christmas. Emily? Ems? Oh." Nolan nudged her, but the girl was already asleep, breathing deeply against his thigh. He moved out from under her, settling her down on the sofa, then brought their glasses into the kitchen sink.

He considered covering her with a blanket and leaving her on the sofa to sleep, but gave up on the idea. The couch was comfortable enough, but she deserved her own bed, tonight of all nights. Nolan crossed the living room and scooped her up into his arms, then carried her into her bedroom. He settled her down onto her side and swept the blanket up to her shoulders, watching her for a minute, this child who knew him better than every other adult in his life.

It was a strange thought, but Emily was his closest friend.

Nolan left her to sleep and then went off to sleep in his own room, ready to wake up to a new Christmas morning.

* * *

Emily woke up to pain when she opened her eyes, a putrid taste in her mouth, a spinning brain and a horrible roiling in her stomach.

A wonderful start to Christmas Day.

She rolled over and fell out of bed, the sheet twisted around her legs, landing with a soft _thump_ on the rug. She felt so bizarre, as if her insides were swirling. She forced her eyes open and stared at the ceiling, praying that this awful sick vertigo would just _stop_. But she couldn't lay there much longer. She forced herself up and stumbled into the bathroom, nearly tripping over herself. She hunched over the toilet, waiting to get sick, but it didn't happen. Her body was betraying her horribly.

Emily avoided her reflection - sure she must look as awful as she felt - as she cupped her hands under the faucet and drank the water, her head pounding from the noise, the movement and the overhead lights. This was awful, she'd rather have the flu ten times than go on feeling like this. _Oh, God, am I dying?_

The girl turned off the light and sat on the edge of the tub, cradling her throbbing head in her hands and hoping desperately that she would feel more herself soon. This couldn't last forever, could it? _This must be what hell is like._

She could hear Nolan moving around in the kitchen, the rattling of pots and pans. She could smell whatever he was cooking.

She couldn't stay sitting in the dark for much longer. Nolan might come in and she didn't want him to see her like this. D _id I get sick in front of him last night?_

She could remember most of the night before, the last thing she could recall being Christmas music and Nolan telling her a story from when he'd been a teenager not much older than she was now.

Emily groaned. So much for her hopes of impressing the man with her new air of maturity. He must be disgusted with her, or think she was just a stupid girl.

Well.

It was Christmas, she might still have a chance to prove herself.

She pushed through the spinning pain that pulsed behind her eyes and changed out of her sweaty clothes from the night before and into something more suitable for the morning. She ran a brush through her hair and splashed her face with water.

Studying her reflection and feeling her stomach tremble again, Emily made her first declaration of an oath that she would make and break again and again throughout her life.

 _I'm never drinking again!_

* * *

Nolan looked up from the stove and smiled as a rumpled Emily dragged herself into the living room. The girl had looked better. Her skin was waxy and even paler than usual; clearly the bourbon hadn't agreed with her and Nolan hoped that she hadn't gotten sick all over her bed or the floor of her room.

"Good morning, how do you feel?" He asked, voice purposefully soft. He had toyed with the idea of being loud, but he chose to give her a pass - it was Christmas, after all. No need to be cruel. He wouldn't deal with a drunk teenager in the way his father had, though now, as then, waffles would be involved.

The girl groaned and squinted her eyes, avoiding the window. "Ugh, the sun is too loud."

"Welcome to your first hangover."

Emily moved to sit on one of the barstools and pillowed her head on her arms folded over the counter. "How much did I drink?"

"Just an Old Fashioned. You're a lightweight."

"I'm 14!"

"No excuse!" Nolan shot back. "What are they even teaching you at that school? It's in Europe, the legal drinking age there is like ten. I would have thought you were taking advantage of that."

"I've had other things on my mind." Emily said as she massaged her temples, pushing back against the headache she'd earned by Nolan's bourbon. Sneaking alcohol hadn't been her priority during her time abroad, she had grander schemes ahead.

"Come on, eat up and you'll feel better." Nolan ordered, setting a full breakfast plate before her. Eggs, waffles, sausage and fruit. He refused her any coffee, insisting she drink a glass of water instead. "Trust me, this is the only cure for what's ailing you."

"This is really good." Emily said halfway through her plate. She'd missed Nolan's cooking during her time at school and was already feeling worlds better than she had upon waking.

"Food always tastes better the morning after a binge."

Emily smiled and rolled her eyes. "It was one drink! It's not like I downed a whole keg."

"Please don't. Stick with wine and cocktails, leave the beer to the frat boys." He groused, pouring himself another coffee.

"I'll keep that in mind for later." Emily said around a mouthful of green grapes.

Nolan let her go on eating as he moved to the window wall, coffee mug in hand. The brew this morning was strong and sweet, the way he preferred it. He looked down to the park layered over with a fresh fall of snow. Crisp, blinding white. It all looked so clean from up above. He wrestled with his thoughts - a part of him wanted to remain inside, bundled in his pajamas and robe, but the greater, stronger part of him yearned to get outside with Emily and try for some fun.

Well.

They could do both, one after the other.

Nolan glanced over his shoulder to the girl. "After you finish, get dressed and we'll walk the park. The fresh air will be good for you."

She had just downed the last bite of her breakfast and moved to join him at the window. The snow was reflecting the morning sun, so bright she had to avert her eyes. The city was lovely and she was feeling much better than she had on first waking up in her room with no memory of how she got there.

Emily took a breath. "Nolan. I don't remember everything from last night, but I remember enough. Thank you for staying up with me."

The man nodded and reached over to give an affectionate squeeze to her shoulder. "Anything you need, Ems."


	20. Chapter 20

The next few months after Emily's return to Europe were a time of intense personal growth.

Emily made a change to her hair and general disposition - where she'd started her freshman year as a withdrawn goth, she finished the year as a friendly chestnut brunette who was perhaps too fond of spray tans and bronzer - but more importantly, she could now claim a few friends as her own, and even something like a boyfriend.

None of those in her circle knew the truth, of course. They couldn't.

They only knew the story of Emily Thorne, the fiction she lived each day, she being cousin and ward to Nolan Ross. Her connection to the man had made her interesting from the start, and once Emily had presented herself as open to friends, she'd attracted a few girls on the volleyball team to include her into their group outings off-campus and one special boy who she had no real idea what to do with. They'd held hands, often made out in the library and he insisted on buying her coffee every time they visited the cafe.

A sweet boy, but he was transferring to a different school the following year - better that they make a clean break. He had regretted this more than Emily, as she was teaching herself the miserable art of keeping people at arm's length while presenting the appearance of a close connection.

Of all the skills she would master, this would be the most valuable.

The day after school ended, she had met her beau at the cafe to say goodbye. Emily had dressed simply for the occasion, a black dress to mourn this first calf-love.

His, not hers.

He had bought her a designer purse and a lovely bouquet of bright spring flowers, his parting gifts, then hugged her close and breathed in the scent of her vanilla perfume. He would truly miss her for a time, but it wouldn't be long before another pretty girl caught his eye. He was sixteen, after all.

For her part, Emily kissed him for the last time, watched as he drove away, and made herself forget his name by the time she'd returned to her dorm room.

As for her friends, they had been teary-eyed through the end of school party, and she had played along as they all made their sobbing promises to keep in touch throughout the summer and reunite to take over the school in their sophomore year.

Popularity and parties.

Silly girls concerned with silly goals.

Emily had flown back to the states the next day with nothing but the Trial of the Century on her mind.

* * *

"Clarke. You have a visitor."

David looked up from his novel, one of five that Amanda and Nolan had sent him in a care package the previous summer. He'd read it no less than twelve times already, the words having long lost their meaning. The man tossed the book aside and hurriedly stood from his cot, offering his wrists to be cuffed.

He wasn't expecting a visit from Nolan today, but whenever the man came he would bring news of Amanda - either a recording, letters or a video recorded on that tiny screen no bigger than his palm. He lived for those visits, desperate to know about his child and eager to see his friend as well. He'd loved Nolan both as a friend and protege - it had been remarkable to watch the younger man grow into a true leader of his field. Nolan might be the only man in the world who believed in his innocense; David was eager to see his friend, eager for some news of the outside world, eager for news of Nolcorp's latest gadget to hit the market, eager for a joke, some words of comfort - most of all, David was eager, desperate, to speak to someone who would treat him as a man.

The guards were clinical, as always. They rarely spoke to him outside of the occasional beating. It was a tactic meant to further his sense of isolation, and it was working. David had done all he could to occupy himself but he had grown mad for human interaction after the first month.

The guards lead him down the familiar hallway, but rather than going into the visitor room that had usually been used in his visits with Nolan, they lead him to a smaller room typically reserved for meetings between prisoners and their priests. David had to wonder if his case was so hopeless that meeting with an emmissary of God was his only chance, but he didn't have long to ponder as the guards lead him inside and he froze with shock at who was waiting for him at the table.

Across the table there was a woman...it took him several moments of open staring, but then he realized. The woman under the blonde wig and scarf covering her head, the woman hiding behind the blue contact lenses, was Victoria Grayson...his Victoria...and the little one in her arms was their child.

The woman looked at him, her expression pleading. "David."

He waited until the guard had chained his cuffs to the solid bar bolted to the table, further restraining him. He hardly noticed. He could hear nothing, see nothing but the woman and child before him. The guard left, and finally the man spoke. "Victoria."

Victoria's eyes wavered, unsure what to make of his reaction. He appeared in shock. She understood, but there wasn't time to let him process this. Time had never been on their side. "Please, meet our daughter."

"Our daughter." He choked out. Distantly, he could feel the hot sting of tears in his eyes, the hard thrum in his chest as Victoria shifted the baby in her arms and the child turned to look at him, cooing softly. Feathery, light brown hair. Dark eyes, like her mother. The baby looked at him and smiled, revealing two tiny teeth, then she turned away from him, suddenly shy and burrowing her face against Victoria's chest.

David moved to reach for her, but his chains _clanked_ on the bar, breaking the spell.

No.

No, he couldn't hold the child. Their child.

"What's her name?"

Victoria stroked the baby's back, settling her. "Charlotte, after your aunt."

David sighed, closed his eyes. A world of worry had been on his shoulders for over a year now, and the weight was crushing. "I...Victoria, what happened?"

She looked up, tears in her eyes, her jaw clenching with the effort to hold back wretched sobs for everything that had happened. "The Initiative, David. Their reach is...they can touch anyone, they have a hand in everything!"

Again, he tried to reach across the table to touch her but the chains at his wrists restrained him. "What have they done to you? Where have you been?"

"I've been running, David. The Initiative came for us, threatened my son!"

"Where's Conrad?"

"I...I don't know! David, he disappeared weeks ago, he was going to meet with them and he never came back. We've been running since then, just the two of us." She said, indicating Charlotte.

"Where's Daniel?"

"He's safe, thank God." Victoria swiped at the tears that had slipped free of her eyes. "I hid him away with friends I trust, friends from my old life. They'll take care of him while I try to get away, far away from all of this. I can't have him near this." She sniffed and held the baby tighter, fear clenching in her chest. "Soon, I'll have to hide her away too. It's the only way she'll be safe."

Her words weighed heavily on his mind. Victoria loved her son, it had to have killed her to leave Daniel behind.

"When I couldn't reach either of you after 197, I thought you might be involved." He confessed.

Her eyes widened, " _Involved?!_ You think I could - could...David, how could you say that? Before Conrad went to them, a man came to us and promised that if you implicated Grayson Global as being involved, they'd kill us all!"

"Who came to talk to you?"

"I didn't catch his name as he was threatening my children." Victoria hissed at him.

"I'm sorry." David sank his face into his hands, rubbing at his temples. "God, who are these people?"

"I don't know. They're everywhere. If you implicate my family at the trial, then we'll all be dead in days. I know Conrad already is. I can't go back for Daniel, they'll follow me straight to him."

"What are you going to do?

"I don't know." Victoria said, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. "My mother...I can't trust her. God, I never could. I have some friends in California, but I can't...I'll have to go it alone for as long as I can manage, anyone who knew me could become a target."

An idea sprung to mind, "Victoria, the account I opened for us, our nest egg for the future we planned - drain it, take everything, take the kids and run, disappear."

"Thank you. The future we planned...how did it turn into _this?_ " Victoria rubbed a hand over her face. "I came to let you see our daughter, David, and to say goodbye." The woman took a deep breath, trying to find some last shred of strength. "David...I am sorry, I'm so sorry for everything that's happened."

"So am I. If I could change things for us..."

"But you can't." Victoria cut him off. Wishing would get them nowhere but deeper into misery. "There's nothing you can do, David." She checked her watch. "Our time's almost up. I have to go. Now. I shouldn't have even risked coming here, but...I had to. For her sake. Whatever happens, you deserved to meet your daughter."

There was some small comfort in this, in knowing the pregnancy Nolan had told him of had been of his making. He had a second daughter. A baby sister for Amanda. Another piece of him out in the world, a child born of the brief love he'd shared with Victoria. "Thank you."

The woman looked at the clock on the wall again. "It's time."

No sooner than she'd said the words, guards entered the room to escort him back to his cell.

David stood, sure this would be the last time he ever saw her. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye David."

Ignoring the guards' warning, Victoria stepped forward and pressed her lips to his.

One last kiss.

Victoria held their daughter close and walked away.


	21. Chapter 21

At 5pm, Denise Walker finished her last e-mail of the working day and took a deep breath. She was a formidable attorney, in touch with both her clients' needs and how to skew events to the media to protect them. More often than not, her clients needed protecting from themselves.

None more so than Mr. Ross.

Even thinking the man's name had her sighing, resigned to assist in the trouble he kept bringing onto himself.

And he used to be such an easy client, too. Hardly anything more than a parking ticket to worry over.

What had happened?

197\. The Clarkes. The girl.

It had been over a year since Nolan had roped Denise into his scheme to take Amanda Clarke and act as a bridge between the accused father and the stolen daughter, all while helping to shore up the defense and stay hidden at the same time. What a mess. There had never been a class to prepare her for this while she'd been in law school; she was in uncharted waters and she didn't like it.

Yes, the last year had been messy but somehow they had pulled it off - arranging for the girl to reunite with her father and then, on her exposure, creating an alias to protect her while abroad. Still, most of that was all down to luck, to being in the right place at the right time. Denise did her best to plan ahead for any and all eventualities but Mr. Ross seemed to enjoy testing her.

Denise spun around in her chair and retrieved a glass from the side cabinet to the left of her desk, then poured herself a drink.

In one week the trial would begin. The world would be watching. The girl had already returned to Mr. Ross in the Hamptons.

While the prosecution had plenty of circumstantial evidence and witness testimonies, the defense had promising evidence on its side - but what people couldn't understand was that all the defense evidence in the world wouldn't matter in a case like this. Mr. Clarke was, to date, the only person arrested in connection with 197. He was the face of Americon Initiative.

Politics were at play.

Rumor was that the prosecutor was eying higher rungs on his career ladder. Convicting a terrorist would look great on a resume.

America needed David Clarke to be destroyed.

He was the face of Americon Initiative, the face of 197. It was his hand that planted the bomb, it was his mind that plotted the deaths of over 200 innocent people.

If the man walked, America would riot.

The trial was just a show. David Clarke would never walk free.

Denise took a long draw on her drink and leaned back in her chair, willing the tension to leave her but it remained. Too much on her mind; anxiety over the trial, curiosity over how each side would approach the gathered evidence and witnesses. Dread that either Mr. Ross or the girl or _both_ would say something to the press or do something insane like attempt a prison break instead of staying safe and silent. Denise had never fed them false hope; she had been as frank about the situation as she could.

Still.

The girl was desperate for her father and Mr. Ross prized her above all others. God, he had become so unpredictable where she was concerned.

Another lawyer, a more disloyal lawyer, would have washed her hands of all this. It was still a legal option for her. She could do it. Separate from Mr. Ross, hand over his contract and wish him well in his future endeavors with a new council. Yes. Any other lawyer would have done so, but Denise Walker wasn't any other lawyer - she didn't abandon her clients and give up for the sake of convenience. She was better than that, she was a fighter.

She was also too deep into this now to turn tail and run.

The woman finished her drink and gathered her things, leaving her office.

There would be long days ahead, she only hoped that she would be up to the task of dealing with the fallout.

* * *

The return to New York, specifically the Hamptons, was strange and bittersweet.

So much had changed.

Emily sat on one of Nolan's backyard deckchairs and looked out over the shore, reflecting. The last time she had been in the Hamptons, she'd had to admire the view from inside Nolan's house, caged by his dictate after her picture had landed on the front page of a tabloid.

On picking her up at the private airport the day she'd returned, Nolan had informed her that they'd be returning to the Hamptons rather than the city as she'd expected, but to a different house than the one from the previous summer. In comparing the two, she preferred this house; where his first had been grand glass and steel, his new house somehow felt more settled. The clean line furniture and his gadgets were still in place, but the house itself was smaller than the first, the ceilings were lower, the space itself felt warmer, more his true home away from the city than the glass house ever could be.

She took in a deep breath, deeply enjoying the sea air and subtle scent of flowers and grass. That was a big change, as Nolan had never possessed much of a green thumb - but the man had fallen in love with the house and its surrounding greenery on his first walk-through, buying it on the spot at well over the asking price to ensure he won the bid. He wanted the house for himself of course, but he knew Emily would love it too.

"Nolan, I love it!" Had been her first words on stepping inside, so Nolan knew he'd made the right choice. Really, there was never any doubt.

If the girl had shown any disappointment in not returning to his city apartment for the summer - she'd had a wonderful time with him over the holidays and during spring break - then she didn't show it; instead she'd gushed over the house's views of the shore, the flower gardens and trees. The house wasn't too far from David's beach cottage, and only a half mile or so further from town than his glass house had been.

It had been a week since her return and Emily hadn't left the house yet; she had run on the familiar shore, passing by Nolan's old house and the fire pit, she'd swum in the ocean and in the lap pool, she'd helped him stake lights down the walkway to the shore and even climbed the trees.

A touch of cabin fever was taking hold; she was growing restless to reacquaint herself with the spots in town that she had enjoyed with Nolan the previous summer. The Rosehill Boutique, the beach club, and if she asked then Nolan might take her to the Stowaway - the bar was meant to be her first investment property, after all. Maybe this time he'd buy her something stronger than a Sprite, as she and alcohol were no longer such strangers.

Emily stood from her chair and walked to the edge of the yard, then turned around and faced the house, studying it from this new angle. In a way, she felt that Nolan's new house was a reflection of their situation: a new exterior with the same people and the same secrets hiding within.

She didn't mind.

Once her father was free, there would be no need to hide ever again - her father would come home to them and they would all be together. She still held to her fantasy, her anchor amid a sea of anguish. She had done her best to stay afloat, but she wanted to be Amanda again.

 _Maybe I can even go back to blonde_ , she thought, tugging at her freshly re-dyed brunette hair. She liked the new color, but it wasn't _her_ and never would be.

Visiting David had become impossible. With the approaching trial, Lockhart had become surrounded with protesters - the risk of another exposure was too great. God only knew what would happen if she was discovered again, Nolan hadn't been in to see David in the last two months thanks to the mounting scrutiny from the public. He and Denise had agreed and together outvoted Emily that tensions were running too high to try their luck by attempting a visit to Lockhart or attending the trial in person; better to wait and watch from home like the rest of the world.

Emily hated it, but she understood.

She could forego visiting David because soon, very soon, this nightmare would be over. She looked over to the patio set; in a mere few weeks she, Nolan and David would be sitting right there together, eating Nolan's promised feast, listening to music and laughing with pure joy as they planned their trip to a beautiful tropical paradise.

Until then, she had a jewelry box full of loving messages from her father to tide her over. It would have to be enough.

"Careful, Ems." Emily turned to see Nolan emerging from the house, still in his lounge pants and robe, barefoot as he cut across the grass toward her. "I need to put up a little safety fence over this spot."

She rolled her eyes at him when he moved to guide her away from the edge of the yard, where one corner dropped off, a steep twenty foot drop to a rocky area of the shore below.

"Come on Nolan, you don't need to child-proof the yard."

"For insurance purposes, yes I do. Anybody takes a tumble and I'm the one who gets sued. No thanks!" He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. "What do you want to do today?"

He lead her inside and poured her a cup of coffee.

Really, Nolan would have been content to share another lazy day in the house with her. He liked being barefoot with messy hair in his pajamas, as did Emily, given she was still in her leggings and one of his NolCorp t-shirts. Still, when he'd found Emily in a tree the day before, it was clue enough that the girl was overdue for a day out.

Emily sipped her coffee and thought it over.

This wasn't like her visits with him in the city where their time was so limited and they'd felt the need to fill every moment with activity - it was always a restaurant or a visit to Lockhart or an event to attend, really they hadn't simply spent time relaxing together since the previous summer. While she would enjoy yet another lazy day spent with the man, there would be plenty more lazy days ahead and even more time spent together once her father was free.

Today she wanted to reacquaint herself with the Hamptons.

"I want to go into town."

"Of course." Nolan nodded. "You want to drive?"

Nolan had been allowing her to drive his cars since the year before - the girl was fully capable now, she simply wasn't street legal yet. Not that he couldn't just doctor up a license for her, but Denise had warned him about forging any further government documents where Emily was concerned.

"Let me take a shower first."

"Sure thing, I need to get dressed too." Nolan spread the opening of his robe, widening the front and exposing his chest. "I can't let the ladies see me like this, they'd all go nuts trying to get at me!"

Emily laughed at him, "Only the ones with great taste, Nolan!"

"Why thank you." He winked at the girl and went off to ready himself for the day.

Emily finished her coffee and rinsed the mug in the sink, then went into her room. Her third bedroom under Nolan's roof and just like the others, this room was fairly bare. She had no care to decorate here; in a few months' time she would be back to living with her father, they'd be settled in a safe place called home far away from trouble.

She took a quick shower and then patted herself dry, looking herself over in the mirror. She hadn't fully blossomed into her womanhood yet, though she was well aware of the changes coming over her. Some of the girls on her team had developed more quickly; it was easy to mistake them for upperclassmen or even for university students in the locker room.

Emily wished her own shape would come along faster; she wanted her body to match her mindset, but wishing hadn't done her any good so far. She cupped her breasts and pushed them together, trying to create cleavage in the mirror, then released her chest. Her mother hadn't been particularly well-endowed, so she didn't expect that she would be once she was finished growing. All she could do was continue to train both body and mind, and _wait_.

The waiting was the most difficult part, but she was learning patience and the image she held of the woman she would become would be well worth it.

She twisted her hair into a long side braid over her shoulder and applied her makeup, easing up from what she usually wore at school, since Nolan was so vocal in his preference that she go for a more natural look when she was with him. They had locked horns over the issue before and she wasn't in the mood for that same old argument today.

Emily had learned to choose her battles where Nolan was concerned.

* * *

"It's even more crowded than it was last year." Nolan grumbled as he offered his arm to the girl. She looped her arm through his and fell into step with him as he lead the way toward the club. Tourists were all around them, snapping pictures, asking for directions, loudly complaining about how expensive everything in the Hamptons was and just generally getting in the way.

"They're probably fans of yours."

"Somehow I doubt that." Nolan said as a group of attractive twenty-somethings passed them, none of whom gave any indication of recognizing him. Yes he was a public figure but he wasn't the flashiest celebrity in the Hamptons. Hell, he wasn't even the biggest celebrity in his neighborhood.

The man didn't have the heart to tell Emily, but earlier in the year he'd found that someone, some sick mind, had organized Clarke Crime Tours - a travel package that invited groups of conspiracy theorists to come out from their chatrooms and over to the Hamptons, where they would have the chance to see the Clarke house before the trial.

Nolan, Catherine, and several others in the community had been instrumental in disbanding the whole operation - he hated to quash a fellow entrepreneur, but even if he hadn't had a personal stake in the situation he would have helped put a stop to it.

So many people had died.

It was obscene to see fat tourists roaming the Hamptons wearing t-shirts with David's mugshot and **Never Forget 197** screened across the front.

Only a bit of good had come of that fiasco, in that Nolan and Catherine had grown closer. Community planning meetings had lead to lunches which had lead to drinks which had lead to a few long weekends where they had hardly left the bed. In his years with Marco, Nolan had forgotten how fun being with a woman could be and Catherine had been more than eager to remind him.

Nolan wasn't sure how their arrangement would continue - if it could continue - now that Emily was back. He doubted it. Their nights together might have come to an end now, but he was sure that they could stay friendly. For the summer, or through the trial at least, Emily would be the only lady of his house. The girl might have understood about Marco, but Nolan had no desire to open this part of his life to her. There were some things that a man liked to keep private.

Thankfully, the pair escaped the crowds of tourists and made it into the beach club.

Emily smiled as she took in the familiar surroundings. It had been just over a year since she had been here, and the place hadn't much changed. The handsome bartender was still there and this time when he made eye contact, she didn't look away, she looked right back at him and smiled. Nolan didn't notice.

The hostess guided them to one of the hightop tables and set them up with menus and promised Nolan that his usual drink was already underway. The perks of being a regular.

The man took his seat and cast his eyes about the restaurant floor, idly curious as to who had returned to the Hamptons for the summer. So far, no one had seen hide nor hair of the Graysons. It had been weeks. They weren't in their island hideaway anymore and they hadn't returned to their Hamptons mansion. Nolan was sure they had hired more cybersecurity because he'd been having a bear of a time trying to hack into Grayson Global - everything he'd tried for the past few weeks had lead to a dead end. It was damn frustrating.

All he knew was that Victoria's baby had been delivered a few months ago - happy and healthy, a girl weighing in at 8lbs, 13oz. Charlotte Grayson. He was still waiting on his source to come through with the DNA results; even if the child wasn't David's, there was no reason now to believe that the baby was Conrad's - proof that the man was ruled out would prove to be useful, should he ever need such ammunition against Victoria.

No, he hadn't seen any Graysons yet, but he did see a familiar face.

Their waitress approached and after Emily asked for an iced tea, Nolan requested that a cocktail be brought to a different table, his eyes eagerly watching as it was delivered from the bar.

Catherine accepted the surprise drink and searched until her eyes met his across the restaurant. She mouthed a gracious 'thank you' and winked, but she didn't approach their table. Nolan could see that she was with her daughter as easily as she could see that he was with Emily. Catherine was discreet, but he knew he could expect a saucy text later that night.

Emily saw the exchange and asked him, "Who's that?"

"She's...my favorite neighbor. Gotta love a redhead, Ems." Emily watched as he winked at the woman across the floor, heat in his eyes. She felt a spike of jealousy against the older woman he was flirting with, but took comfort in reminding herself that she was the only woman in Nolan's life. As far as she knew.

Emily took a deep breath and pushed away the strange jealousy she felt; the trial was set to start soon, that's all that mattered.


	22. Chapter 22

Time in the Hamptons was a strange thing, it could drag at a snail's pace or the hours could fly across a day and into oblivion. Emily did her best to maintain the habits she'd built at school and the previous summer, routines to keep herself steady. She woke before the sun. She stretched, then did push-ups, sit-ups and handstands. She ran on the shore, two miles, then a dip in the pool to cool off; by the time Nolan dragged himself out of bed in the morning, he would usually find the girl lounging poolside working on her tan.

He avoided her while she sunbathed; Emily had had something of a growth spurt and while her bikini left little to the imagination, he didn't want to imagine _that_ with Emily. Her childhood had ended with the raid on her home, but Nolan wouldn't cross that line, not with things the way they were now. The man wasn't sure how to bring up such an awkward subject with her so he took the coward's way out and just avoided her while she was by the pool. Unfortunately, he knew that he would need to dig deep and find the courage to say something if she tried going to the beach in that bikini, because if he didn't then she'd catch the attention of every boy from here to the Bronx - attention David would never want her to receive.

After a morning spent in the sun, Emily would come into the house, dress for the day and join Nolan in the kitchen for a late breakfast or she would drive them into town where they would roam the shops and then partake at one of the restaurants or cafes. This had become their general routine for the last month. Exercise, the beach, shopping in town, an endless river of coffee and cocktails.

It was all distractions, really, and they both knew it.

Ways to eat the hours in countdown to the trial.

Emily idly tapped her nails on the polished surface of the bar as she waited for a shrimp cocktail. They hadn't come to their favored beach club or the Stowaway today; rather Nolan had lead her to the Bait Bucket for a change of scenery. It was something of a dive bar, with dartboards and a few pools tables set up across the floor, classic rock always tuning through scratchy speakers, but the food was tasty and it was only midday. No risk of any hassle here; Nolan was a regular customer and it was no secret that the man would take umbrage if anyone were to approach his ward.

Emily was aware of the subtle possession signs Nolan exhibited toward her, his way of warning away the teenagers and men who looked on her with frank sexual interest, and she appreciated his protection. She had bid adieu to her first boyfriend just before her arrival to the Hamptons and hadn't given a thought to him since; dating or even making friends was a non-issue for her. There was nothing that appealed to her but the reunion with David once he was found innocent.

She was trying to ignore both Nolan's flirting with a man over near the jukebox and the TV over the bar showing news footage of her father's arrest in the lead-up to the trial.

Emily's stomach churned at the images on the screen. Pictures of her father while he consulted for Grayson Global and Takeda Industries, footage of his arrest, his mugshot and footage of him as he'd been processed into Lockhart. For a bare moment, she could pretend to be objective, as if she was just another girl, a girl far removed. She could see through the eyes of a stranger and pretend David Clarke as the face of Americon Initiative, the terrorist, the murderer. The monster who laughed as flight 197 fell.

She blinked.

 _I'm not another girl. I'm not far away from this. I'm not Emily Thorne. David Clarke is my father. He is innocent. He didn't do this. They're wrong. Everyone is wrong. The truth will come out and when it does, dad, Nolan and I will leave here and_ **never** _come back._

The bartender came and set her shrimp cocktail on the counter, breaking her train of thought. "You plan on watching the trial?"

"Hmm?"

"The Clarke trial. You going to watch?" He asked her. He was Donald Jenkins, handsome and young, early twenties with a stud earring and a tribal tattoo circling his forearm. Emily seemed destined to attract the attention of barmen in the Hamptons, but the truth was he just liked to make conversation and he was fishing for a good tip. He had to save for textbooks come the fall semester. "You should. It's important to be informed, especially about something so important. This trial will set a precedent."

Emily bit into a shrimp, the meat soft between her teeth. "How do you mean?"

"I'm a legal student, so I'm really interested in this stuff." He told her, happy to make conversation since the bar was slow. "I'm addicted to true crime shows. With this trial, the way they process the evidence, the testimonies and witnesses...this will change everything. If something like this ever happens again, they'll look back on this trial as a guide."

"Do you think something like 197 could happen again?"

"God, I hope not. So many people died that day. He'll never go free."

Emily didn't blink. She had heard similar sentiments before, in the Hamptons and throughout the school year. Before sending her away, Nolan had told her she'd need to train herself not to react in a way that would give away the truth, and that's what she did. First as a withdrawn goth, she had built up her walls and now as a more outgoing brunette she had learned how to hide her anger and despair for her father behind wide smiles.

"So you think he did it."

The barman shrugged, "Who else? I think Clarke did it but it's up to the prosecution to prove it. From what's been leaked to the press, it should be easy for them. I hope he gets the chair."

Nolan, who had finished his friendly flirting, heard the last exchange and hurried to redirect the conversation. He and Emily had talked of many things, but as the days leading up to the trail counted down, they had avoided talking about the elephant in the room. He didn't want her upset by yet another vicious opinion on David Clarke. "Hey now! Ease up on the trial talk, Don. Save it for class."

Don knew better than to argue with a customer. He gave a quick nod to and moved down the bar; a few of his regulars had come in, and he started to prep their drinks.

"We were just talking." Emily told Nolan. Inside herself, she was unnerved by the man's condemnation of her father. Outwardly, she let nothing show.

"I know." Nolan said as he retook his barstool on her left. "He has a big mouth so I know what he said. You don't need to hear any of that."

Emily bit into another shrimp to quell the cold rising to grip her chest. "It's nothing I haven't heard before. Nolan...what if he's right?"

He reached over to put a hand on her back, "If he's right then we'll make a new plan. But let's cross that bridge when we get to it."

"He has to be wrong. They all have to be wrong."

"We have to get through the trial first."

Emily sighed. She wished with everything she had that Nolan could reach out and just...but no. He had done so much already.

He couldn't reprogram the world for her.

"Yes. The trial first."

* * *

Later in the day, Nolan gave his credit card a healthy workout by buying Emily several new outfits and a more modest bathing suit. He hoped she would get the message without him spelling out why he preferred she wear the one-piece over the scraps of lace held together with dental floss that made up her bikini. After the shopping, they went for a coffee before stopping over to check on their investment. All was well with the The Stowaway - with the infusion of cash, the business was pulling itself out of the hole that Carl Porter had fallen into during hard times. They walked up and down the pier and watched the people. Still the spectre of the trial was everywhere, inescapable and ubiquitous, it showed on every screen, it was mentioned by every passing voice.

Nolan knew that he and Emily would be in for harsh times - it would be a long, drawn out process, time-consuming and emotionally draining. He had a personal stake in the proceedings, but David was Emily's whole world; he knew her well enough to know that the girl was putting on a brave front, but he couldn't imagine what she was thinking or feeling. He only knew he had to be with her, at her side, for anything she might need in the upcoming days, weeks, months - however long the trial might last.

To that end, he made a choice - another choice to put Emily first.

On arriving home, Nolan had the girl order in from their favorite Chinese place and then he made a quick call.

It was something he'd been putting off for the last week, since he'd last seen the woman at the beach club.

He'd known it would come to this.

It was nothing he wanted to do, rather this was an unpleasant necessity.

Nolan watched as Emily set down her purse and went to the kitchen to find the takeout menu. She went on to start placing their order, and he stepped out to the backyard and inhaled the scent of the salted sea air, grass and flowers. He took out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. Three rings and then his call was answered.

"Hi, it's me. I know this hasn't been how we usually do things, but can I come see you? It'll be quick, I promise. I just need to...I don't know, clear the air." A pause, her answer. "You will? Thank you. Yes. The dock, can you meet me there?" Another pause. "All right. I'll see you in a few. Bye."

Plan in place, Nolan called into the house, "Hey Ems, I'm going to take a walk, will you be all right on your own for a bit?"

Emily had just finished placing their takeout over and smiled at him as she replaced the house phone. "I think I can manage. I'll set out dinner if it arrives before you get back."

"Thanks. Be back in a few."

Nolan headed up the shore toward a small dock that housed several of his neighbors' small stream boats. He saw her on his approach, fiery hair blowing about her face in the breeze. She was wonderful and light and warm, but with Emily in his house and the trial hanging over their heads, he couldn't carry on with her. He owed it to this woman to explain everything, but that was impossible. Still, he owed it to her to break with some honesty.

He held out his hand to her. "Join me for an evening stroll?"

Catherine smiled and took his hand, her gold bracelets clinking together as she did so. "I can't resist. Thank you for the flowers Nolan, that was a sweet surprise waiting for me when we got home from lunch the other day."

He had made the order for delivery shortly after seeing her at the beach club, both because he knew she'd like the flowers and to ease his own sense of guilt. "I'd hoped you'd liked those. Catherine, I'm...not great with goodbyes."

Catherine turned to him, "Goodbye?"

"Maybe not goodbye-goodbye, like a forever goodbye." Nolan said hastily. He didn't know what would come next, but he didn't want her to feel that she was being cast aside. He cared about her, truly. "It's just...it would complicate things if we were to carry on as we have been now that my cousin is home for the summer. Her family situation is still pretty unstable. She and I...we have a special bond ever since she came to stay with me last year. I'm her only family for the time being, and-"

Catherine nodded, understanding. "Nolan, please, we're both adults. We never defined this, what we have, and you don't owe me a special explanation or a goodbye-gift, though again I do love the flowers. My daughter won't stop teasing me about my 'secret admirer'."

Nolan smiled, relieved. What she said was true - they hadn't defined their relationship by any means, and she might have just as easily told him to keep his distance while her children were home during the summer. Perhaps he had just been the one to say it first. "You're not upset?"

The woman shrugged. "Well...I can't say I won't miss the crossword puzzles."

Nolan barked out a laugh at that; pleasant memories of their time together rising in his mind. Passion and then the friendship that strengthened over pillow talk. Books and movies and their competitive streaks coming out over the Sunday crossword. He had been aggressive in acquiring the rights to make an app of the puzzles and it was no wonder why. "I'll miss the puzzles too, but that's not what I'll miss most."

Catherine smiled at him again, brilliant. "Well, Mr. Ross, I'll get back to my family and I'll let you get back to yours. If this is just goodbye for now, then can a girl get a goodbye kiss?"

The woman rose to her toes and Nolan dipped his head, capturing her lips under his. He held her to him, absorbing her warmth, taking in her scent. So lovely.

Their kiss ended. Nolan held her face and looked into her eyes.

After Marco, he'd thought he would die of the heartache, the memories and empty nights. Catherine hadn't been something he'd expected or even been looking for. She wasn't the love of his life or soulmate, but she wasn't some meaningless rebound fling. She had been a balm to a lonely, broken heart. She was fun and clever and sexy and interesting. She had been what he'd needed, but now their time had to come to an end.

There were bigger things happening than the two of them.

"Catherine, you really are something special. I'll miss you."

Again, she smiled at him. She even winked. "You don't have to miss me. No matter where we go, we'll always have the Hamptons. And besides, your cousin has to go back to school eventually."

She turned away and he watched as she walked back up the shore, taking a piece of him with her.

* * *

It had come.

Day One.

Trial of the Century.

Young Jack Porter kicked a rock out of his way as he moved down the pier, heading toward a bench. He wanted to just sit and relax for the duration of his break. He had fifteen minutes to himself before he had to get back to work. It had already been a busy morning and the clock was ticking toward mid-morning, when the trial would begin. His father had taken Mr. Ross's advice to heart, and over the last several months The Stowaway had been given a huge facelift: the interior layout and furniture had been freshened up, the bar was stocked with new exotic top-shelf liquors, local craft beers had joined their standard fare, they had expanded their menu and several corners of the bar now housed a flat-screen television. As Nolan had foretold, The Stowaway had begun to pull in a more diverse crowd of customers - their regulars now mingled with the tourists and slumming Hamptonite locals - and was clawing its way back toward the black.

To that end, Carl was anticipating a big turnout to The Stowaway to watch the trial.

The entire country was anxious, intense. It could be read in the set of every man's jaw, every woman's eyes. Jack understood. His hobbies didn't extent much farther beyond skateboarding, sneaking the occasional joint or drink with his friends and trying to lose his virginity to anything that even remotely resembled a human female.

Still, no man was an island.

He'd seen the news. He'd followed the story. He knew about Americon Initiative's promise of more terror to come and like every other American, he'd fallen asleep with the dread of waking to another day of horror and death. He'd seen the footage of David Clarke being arrested, the man's beach house not even five miles from the Porters' modest home.

Too close.

The monster had been living far too close.

Jack shifted on the bench and sipped his Coke, idly watching the waves roll as a boat cut its way across the water.

He wondered how long the trial would take. His father had mentioned that a trial this big, with so much media attention and tensions running so high, it could take weeks, even months. If that was true, and The Stowaway continued to draw in so many customers who just wanted to be out of their house to watch the trial, then at least the bar would get out of the money trouble that had been stressing his father.

197 and David Clarke and the trial was all anyone had been talking about in school for the past year.

Jack hoped this thing would just _end_ so life could get back to normal, but he was growing up and learning to leave such naive ideas behind. no matter what happened with the trial, all those people were still dead and Americon initiative was still out there, the constant invisible threat. There would be no going back to normal.

He tossed his empty Coke in the trash and headed back into the bar.

* * *

Up the north beach, Emily stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. She wasn't sure how she felt.

How _should_ she feel, today, on the day of her father's trial?

At once, she was anxious, unbalanced. Afraid. There was a sinking in her belly, a tight knot in her throat. Anger in her heart.

Tears stung in her eyes and Emily blinked, forcing herself from the bed. _Get up. Move. You can't hide here forever._

The girl sat up and looked about her room. Sparse furnishings outshined by a brilliant view of the shore, the sun just touching over the water. Her suitcases from school were in the corner, her dirty clothes from the day before discarded on the floor beside them. Her closet door was open, revealing her chic summer wardrobe. The clothes she wore always made her feel more mature, more focused and in control.

 _Idiot. You can't control what happens today. You can't control anything, you never could...but today, you have to face what's coming. Do it for dad._

"For dad." Saying the words out loud gave Emily the shot of courage she needed. She rose and made her way into the bathroom, intent to take a shower and seize the day. _The jury will find dad innocent. They have to. They_ **will** _._

Emily started taking off her clothes, readying herself for a long, scalding shower. She was feeding herself hope, but there was still a terrible gripping feeling inside of her, a cold hand reaching inside of her, squeezing her heart.

Emily knew the feeling.

 **Doubt.**

Doubt was rising in her and Emily fought to beat it back. She'd been fighting horrible, insidious Doubt for over a year - ever since the chaos of that first night, those long terrible days she'd been trapped in Millhouse. She had done her best to build walls in the form of Emily Thorne. She'd changed her looks, reinvented her history, made friends and started a short-lived romance as a way of distracting herself from the doubts that ate at her with every news broadcast, every overheard smear against her father's name, every pained smile that Nolan plastered across his face when he tried to reassure her.

 _When my father goes free, he'll come here to stay with Nolan and then we'll all plan out our trip together. Somewhere far, far away from everyone. Somewhere that doesn't have Internet or tabloids or anyone stupid or corrupt enough to think he had anything to do with-_

"Emily?"

She froze, her hand just an inch from turning on the shower faucet. She could tell from his voice that Nolan wasn't at her bedroom door, he was actually in her room, perhaps just a foot from the door to the bathroom...and she was naked. For a mad, shocking moment of pure want, Emily thought to tell Nolan to come in, to let the man see her so that she could entice him into taking her right there on the bathroom counter, nevermind his preferences, and then after it was over, once their passions were spent and he'd driven her doubts away, Nolan would hold her and make her believe, truly believe that everything would be all right in the end-

As quick as it came, the madness flew from her mind. _What is wrong with me?_

"I'm about to take a shower Nolan." Emily called quickly, voice strained.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come in, it's just that you didn't answer your door."

"I'll be out in a little bit."

"Gotcha." His voice was farther away now, he was leaving. "I'm setting up in the living room."

Emily heard her bedroom door shut and she turned the faucet, diving under the scalding spray.

* * *

Nolan, ignorant of Emily's flash of lust toward him - though of course he couldn't blame the girl if she was still harboring her little crush on him, he was irresistible, truly, he was God's perfect man! - started to ready his living room for the first day of what promised to be a marathon trial spanning weeks. He didn't know what to expect. Denise had been brutally honest with him - David had a snowball's chance in Hell of walking free. Whether he was actually involved with Americon Initiative was immaterial; the country had a man to blame, a target for their rage and sense of retribution. He would be the price paid for all the lives lost on that horrible day.

Nolan felt sick.

He had done all he could for Emily, or, all he could think of to protect her. A new name, new looks, a new school on the other side of the world. Nolan had created a new identity for the girl to step into, and she had worked every day to weave the illusion. Emily Thorne, his friend and ward, young fashion maven, volleyball star, top student and a spy, in her own mind.

Yes, he had done everything for Emily but he had utterly failed David.

He hadn't found any genuine proof of a conspiracy, he hadn't found a way to undermine the defense's evidence and he had lost the Graysons. He had tried, damn it...and he had completely failed his friend. _I'm so sorry David. I thought I could fix this, I thought I could win for you._

The man settled into his spot on the sofa and tuned to one of the channels showcasing the trial. He heard Emily shuffling around in her room, and a moment later she emerged with her wet hair braided down her back and wearing one of his band t-shirts.

"Are you sure you want to watch this?" The question was out before Nolan could stop himself.

She looked at him with calm eyes, her jaw set. All over again, Nolan dismissed the idea that she was in any way a child. This was a soul made ancient before her time. "I don't want to see this, but I have to. For dad."

And that was that.

Emily walked over and took her spot on the sofa next to him.

And so began the first day in their vigil over the trial of David Clarke.

* * *

Weeks.

Weeks of testimony from both expected and surprise witnesses. Weeks of lawyers arguing back and forth across the courtroom floor. Weeks of unbiased expert testimony concerning the bomb fragments recovered from the crash site. Weeks of forensic financial analysis. Weeks of allegations. Weeks of news, weeks of commentators giving their insight into the trial.

Weeks of Nolan and Emily planting themselves on the sofa before the television. Like every household across the nation, their attention was focused on the trial. Sometimes they would watch in total silence as the trial went on, sometimes they would scream at the court proceedings. After the fourth day of trial coverage, Emily had started bringing a notebook with her to the living room, taking note of the witnesses called to the stand, the key arguments from both the prosecution and the defense. More often than not, Emily would fall asleep watching the news, only to wake up in her own bed in the mornings. Sometimes it would be Nolan who would fall asleep first and wake to find himself covered with his favorite blanket.

They took care of each other.

Their observance had become an obsession; there was a day when Nolan checked the time and realized that they had been watching the trial and accompanying news coverage for 12 straight hours. He had rushed to turn off the television and ordered Emily into the car to come to town with him, where they had dinner at the beach club and roamed the shops and streets, reveling in the fresh air, talking to as many people as they could and gladly stretching their legs. They visited the Bait Bucket, the Stowaway and the Rosehill Boutique, they walked up and down the pier, looking at the boats docked in the marina and then went down to the shore, taking off their shoes and letting the water lap at their ankles well into the night.

From there, Nolan put a hard limit on their watch time - it wasn't healthy to spend so long watching, and no matter what happened to David, the man wouldn't thank Nolan for letting his daughter became a zombie with her eyes always on a screen.

This day began as so many had before it.

Nolan arrived to the sofa first, with Emily joining him shortly thereafter. They settled into their chosen spots and took a deep breath before Nolan switched on the television, the channel not having been changed once since they first began their marathon viewings. This day in the trial was meant to be continuing arguments, first the prosecution and then David's defense.

He had spoken with Denise the night prior, she was just as focused on the trial as Nolan and Emily and everyone else in the country. Her fascination was based in the legalities and arguments from both sides. In asking her professional opinion, Denise had explained to Nolan that while David had been arrested on forensic connections to Americon Initiative - largely based on electric bank transfers and emails, there hadn't yet been any concrete evidence to prove his involvement with the bombing. Most of the evidence from the prosecution was circumstantial and based on biased witness testimony. As things were progressing, David walking on a technicality or a mistrial was a distinct possibility.

Denise warned Nolan not to say any such thing to the girl, however. She had no connection to Amanda Clarke - or, Emily Thorne, as Nolan had rechristened her - but it would be so cruel to feed the girl false hope.

A key witness had taken the stand the day before, David's former secretary, Lydia Davis. The woman had alluded to several mysterious meetings that David had had in the weeks leading up to 197, though she could never say with who, she'd only given the vague description of David having met with an intimidating white-haired man. This testimony was largely inconclusive - without a name or any proof of what had been discussed in these alleged meetings, then all the anyone had was Lydia's say-so that the meetings even took place at all, the defense had argued - until some recovered airport security footage had shown a man with white hair in the general vicinity of flight 197 shortly before takeoff.

A harsh blow to the defense, but a man with white hair was just a man with white hair - it didn't prove David's involvement or even that this white-haired man had had anything to do with the downed flight, let alone if this white-haired man was the same man that Lydia had claimed to see meeting with David, over a year in the past at this point.

Circumstantial evidence wasn't evidence of anything, and so far that had been all the prosecution had been able to present.

The arguments went on and on.

The prosecution ripped into David's business dealings, the defense fought to counter each accusation.

The prosecution called character witnesses, the defense ferreted out reasons each witness might benefit from David's further imprisonment - nothing concrete, but enough to plant doubt in the minds of the jury and those doubts taken together may be enough to look beyond David Clarke and deeper into the Initiative conspiracy itself.

Emily began to list out the names of the next week's witness list as they scrolled across the screen. She was glad that she'd have the time to look into these people before the next rotation. There had to be one of them who could shed some light on the truth, that Americon Initiative was behind everything and that David was just another victim in this tangle of lies, money and corrupt murder.

Nolan narrowed his eyes as the camera spanned over the trial audience, biting his tongue to stop the sharp curse that nearly leapt from his lips. Victoria Grayson was there in the audience with a baby - David's baby - in her arms.

 _How could...?_

He glanced over to Emily, thankful that she hadn't recognized Victoria - she was still listing out notes in her book.

What happened next, no one could have predicted.

Before anything could be said, David shot to his feet from the defense desk and shouted, "I did it! I did it all! Americon Initiative forever! I did it - I downed that plane!"


	23. Chapter 23

For five straight seconds, all of mankind was silent.

Then, the gavel. The yelling of the trial audience. The panic of the defense team. The cheers of the prosecution. The cacophony of voices all shouting different things in anger and frustration, in vindication and righteous affirmation. The reactions across the trial audience, the lawyers, the defendant himself. The camera stayed fixed on David whose voice was loudest in declaring his own guilt.

 _"I did it! I did it all! Americon Initiative forever! I did it - I downed that plane!"_

Nolan felt heat in his ears and the noise from the television started to become muffled by a strange muted ringing, until that was all he could hear.

The girl pounced on him, snapping him back into the moment, pulling at his arm, "He's not! He's not guilty! Why would he say that? Nolan, do something! Call Denise, make her fix it!"

"Emily, I'll-"

"Oh God, why would he say that? He didn't do it! Nolan, Nolan, please, do something, please..." Emily begged, panic gripping her.

He reached to pry her fingers from his forearm where she clung to him. The trial coverage had shifted to the news commentators who were just as shocked yet intrigued by this surprise development. "Ems, I'll call her and-"

Just then, his phone shrieked to life, chirping to announce an incoming call. Their situation being what it was, Nolan had created a secure line the year before and there was only one woman who knew the number.

 _Speak of the legal eagle and she shall appear._

Emily got up from the couch and started pacing, her entire body quivering with anxiety, her muscles cramping with tension. All at once she felt dizzy and nauseous, her skin slick with a sudden cold sweat, her breath coming fast and tight. Nolan wanted to stand and restrain her, but he hit the button to put the call on speaker. Denise didn't greet him, she jumped straight into things. "Sir of all the outcomes, this was the least expected."

Nolan was about to speak but Emily shoved her way forward. "What's going to happen to my dad?!"

On the other end of the line, in her home office, Denise winced. She wished that Mr. Ross hadn't allowed the girl onto the call, but her life would be the most impacted by what had just happened. "The specifics are unknown at this time, however as Mr. Clarke has confessed-"

"He didn't confess, he didn't do this!" Emily cried, a breathy sob breaking through her words.

Denise pinched the bridge of her nose. The girl was in good hands with Mr. Ross, but as Denise understood things, David Clarke was the only family that she had. Her entire world had already been torn from her, and now, her entire world had just doomed himself. It was an impossible situation, a waking nightmare. Still, this girl had demanded again and again to be treated as an adult - Denise would not lie to her, not when feeding her false hope could only cause more harm than good. "Ms. Clarke, I am going to reiterate to you what I have had to tell countless clients throughout my career: the truth is irrelevant in a court of law. It all comes down to what can be proven, and as your father has just confessed-"

"Denise-" Nolan started, but Denise interrupted him.

"No, Mr. Ross, you've involved her in this, there's no point in sugar-coating things now. Whether or not Mr. Clarke actually did the crime is irrelevant now. The prosecution had plenty of circumstantial evidence implicating his involvement and since his arrest was made public Mr. Clarke became the face of Americon Initiative. Where he might have had a chance to walk on a technicality or a hung jury, there's no chance of that now. It's far too early to determine the consequence of his confession, but at the very least we can expect a prison transfer - my guess is Rikers as there's no reason to transfer him out of the state."

"When can I see him?" Emily demanded.

"It's far too soon to tell. I wouldn't hold your breath - depending on the sentencing, he may never be granted visitation privileges again."

There was a heavy moment of silence as they absorbed this news.

"What should we do?" He asked.

"There is nothing you can do at this point." Denise sighed. She had no answers for them. Everything was upside down, unprecedented. Denise didn't know what to do; Mr. Ross and the young Miss Clarke had come to count on her for answers and it galled her to present herself as empty-handed. "My advice is to have a drink, go to bed and try to find a way to enjoy tomorrow."

"Is that your legal advice?"

"It's...all I can advise for now." Denise finished lamely. She felt deflated, empty. The raw shock and emotion of the situation was draining.

"Denise?"

"Yes, Mr. Ross, of course I will make some calls and update you when I have news."

Nolan sat back, "Thank you."

The call ended with a soft click.

Emily sat next to Nolan on the sofa, trying and failing to make sense of the last ten minutes. She look down at the coffee table, where her notebook still rested, then back up to the muted television that was re-running the footage of her father's abrupt confession. A false confession, a false accusation for a crime he didn't commit. Just minutes ago, she had been taking notes of what was coming next in the trial proceedings and now she had to face the prospect of a life without her father in it.

Would the trial go on or would the judge move straight into sentencing? Would her father be moved to a different prison?

When would she see him again?

Emily looked over to Nolan, he who had been her guardian and anchor for over a year, her only friend...she had never seen him look so deeply shocked and defeated, and if Nolan was hopeless then _God_ , what was going to happen now?

It took three tries before Emily could force her voice through the tightness in her throat. "Nolan, I'd like a drink. Please."

The man nodded. "Yeah. I think I'll join you."

* * *

In the time it took Nolan to go into the kitchen to fix the most basic of cocktails, Emily completely fell apart.

 _Your father is gone - he's never coming back! Nolan will leave you too, you are alone in the world! No father, no family! No one wants you! You are nothing!_

The cold hand was in her chest again, squeezing her heart until it took most of her effort just to breathe, forcing air in and out of lungs that were suddenly too small and too tight. She couldn't catch her breath, her face was growing hot as horrible thoughts raced through her mind, feeding on each other. Tremors wracked her hands and moved up her body until she was shuddering uncontrollably, her skin slick with cold sweat.

She could hear her pulse pounding through her ears and her vision was growing fuzzy.

Her fantasy was shredding itself.

There would be no joyous reunion with David. No feast shared in Nolan's home. No holidays shared between the three of them. No warmth, no trust. There would be no escape from any of this. There would be no music, no laughter, no home, no safety, no family.

It was over.

 _This_ would be her life.

Constant lies and suspicion. She would always be alone, abandoned and unwanted, always on guard, always keeping herself from others.

Forever lonely, forever hateful, forever longing...

Emily's mind splintered, her thoughts were roiling waves of fear; she couldn't breathe, she couldn't feel, she couldn't even hold herself upright and sank forward, onto the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, a complete disconnect between body and mind.

 _Dad confessed - why?! How could he do this? He didn't do it - he'll never be free now - I'll never see him again - come back! Don't leave me, please! It's over, it's over, it's over..._

Distantly she registered strong hands hoisting her up, Nolan's voice calling her name.

"Emily! Oh, God, please, Emily, you're all right, come on, please breathe, just breathe with me."

The man moved her, shifting her until she was in his lap as he sat back on the sofa. A paralyzed, panicked doll. She could feel his warmth pressed against her back, his breathing strong and deep. Her mind was slowly clearing as she labored to match her breathing to that of the man who held her.

 _Breathe, breathe, breathe, just need to breathe, oh, God, I can't-_

"Breathe in." She could feel his chest rise against her back, and she struggled to match the steady, slow inhale. She gulped at the air, gagging painfully.

"Breathe out." Her body was still shuddering, but she was able to force out a choppy exhale.

"Good. That's good. You can do it, Emily, please, just breathe." Nolan supported her against him and continued to urge her, "There you go. In...and out...now, in...and out...just breathe..."

It took time, nearly twenty minutes until the tremors subsided and her mind cleared. Emily couldn't find it in herself to relieve Nolan, however. It had been so long since she'd simply been _held_. It was selfish but she didn't care. She craved this, she hadn't realized how badly she'd needed such contact. To just be held, it was everything in that moment.

Nolan held onto her, shifting her once her breathing evened out. He turned her more to the side in his lap and he clung to her. There was a deep need in him for reassurance; returning from the kitchen to find her collapsed on the floor and struggling to breathe, it had been terrifying. Marco had had a similar attack on the day of Flight 197, so what Nolan had done then he had done today: he held Emily to him in an effort to calm her down and recover her breathing. She was steadying herself now, but he wouldn't let her go. He needed to hold her and feel that she was safe.

The panic had abated, but the despair remained.

Emily broke down crying and Nolan tightened his hold, cradling her like a child as she clung to him, curled into herself on his lap.

Nolan nuzzled into her hair, both for the comfort and out of a need to hide his face. He couldn't let her see that, once he'd been alone in the kitchen, he had shed a few tears of his own. "Emily. Please, talk to me." He knew what she would say, for she would voice his every thought.

"He didn't do it Nolan, how could he say that?"

"He's lying. There's no way he had a hand in 197. David could never be involved in something like that. He told me, and he told you too. He wasn't lying then, I don't know why he's lying now."

Emily closed her eyes. She couldn't find it in herself to care about Flight 197, Americon Initiative, the Graysons, Lydia Davis, Mason Treadwell, the white-haired man, any of it. There was only one thing, one person, that mattered to her...and he may be gone forever, now.

"I want my dad."

"I know."

"If I can't see him then it won't matter if he gets transferred to another prison." Emily stared far ahead into a lonely future. "I'll never see dad again."

"We don't know that." Nolan said, but there was no strength in his voice. He wanted to give her hope, guide her with cheered words and a course of action...but Nolan was empty of platitudes. The truth was that they were both in the dark. David's abrupt confession had ruined any hope of a mistrial, a hung jury or even his chance of walking on a technicality. What Denise had told them was true. David would likely be relocated and as he had confessed, it may be impossible to sway the next warden to grant visitation.

"Nolan. I want to go home."

Nolan knew what she meant. Home to Emily was an idea, not a place. Home was her vision of David as a free man, where she could be with her father. Home was the fantasy she'd created, an imagined safe haven far away from all of this, an untouchable dream. She had slurred out her secret hopes to him that past Christmas, he remembered.

He had carried some of her hope with him, that some miracle could happen and David's defense might actually pull off a way for the man to walk free. He was still shocked by the confession, but he knew there had to be a reason behind David taking the fall.

The only thing that was clear was that her fantasy had been shredded. Her dream had met a bitter end.

"Ems. You are home."

Emily had no answer to that. It was the truth. There was no home for her but with Nolan and yet another disturbing reality where her father was even further out of reach. At first, it had been because David had been torn away from her, but now the man had doomed himself and no one could fathom _why_.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know yet. I need to think, come up with some kind of plan..." Empty words again. There would be no plan. Nolan didn't know what he could do.

"Let me help you."

"No. You should relax, here. Drink this." Nolan reached to the side table and retrieved the cocktail he'd made for her.

Emily shifted off of him and took the glass, taking a hearty gulp. She hardly tasted it. "Nolan. It's over."

"What is?"

"My dream." She whimpered. She had rarely spoken of her fantasy at length with him, some infantile fear of a wish spoken out loud would never come true. She couldn't stop herself from telling him now. The dream was gone. It was over. "We were all going to go away together, we were going to be a family so far away from this. It was going to be a perfect life and now we'll never..." Her voice caught, she brushed tears from her cheek. "Oh, I think I knew it was never going to happen. I was building my hopes up, holding on to this idea that I knew deep down would never be real."

"Part of your dream could still come true. No matter what happens, David will always be your family. He's your father, no one can take that from you. I'm your family too, if you want me." Nolan sighed and tousled his hair. "We're in this together. For better and for worse, we're family."

"Nolan I-"

"Emily, please. Let's break for now. Denise was right. There's nothing we can do, so let's face this in the morning."

* * *

After seeing Emily to her room, Nolan passed the television on his way into the backyard. The news coverage was still rerunning the confusing footage of David's abrupt confession.

Once he had crossed the threshold into the backyard and the fresh sea air washed over him, once he closed the door behind him and shut out the noise of voices, Nolan's last shred of strength abandoned him. The man sank to his knees and a wild cry tore through him. He bit his fist to stifle his own voice, but still he cried. He cried for David, for his mentor and friend who had been accused, arrested, imprisoned. His name ruined, his child traumatized, his future certain to be spent in an isolated cell.

 _Oh God, David, why would you do this? Why? How could you do this to Amanda? You were all she had and now..._

Somehow, everything came back to the girl. She had carried a fantasy of hope for a secure future with her family - a family that included Nolan. As the trial had progressed, Nolan had almost, _almost_ let himself believe that it could happen. That the tide could be turned, that the defense could fight back against every piece of the prosecution's evidence, that by some miracle David may walk away as a free man and into the expectant embrace of his daughter.

 _David, I wanted to believe._

Nolan swiped the tears from his eyes and moved off the ground, dropping into one of the patio chairs. There was a pounding in his temples and an ache in his chest. He stared out over his yard. He inhaled the scents of grass and flowers, the salted breeze of the ocean. He clenched his fists, trying to recover himself.

 _All right. That's enough. Reboot. Get it together._

Nolan coughed, clearing his throat. He stood up and gave himself a hard shake, twisting at the waist and neck, enjoying the releasing _crack_ of his joints. He could cry for David all day and it would do no good; the girl was already under it, he didn't have the luxury of sinking into despair with her. He never wanted Emily to see him being weak - he was all she had now and perhaps he would be all she had going forward; she had to believe in him because he had lost faith in himself months ago.

He took a deep breath.

He walked the yard, relishing the feel of grass under his bare feet. He felt the late evening sun on his exposed skin, felt the breeze ruffling his hair. In the weeks spent with Emily watching the trial, he had shelved his need for the simple pleasures of life but a man needed his anchors. His home, his yard, his trees and his view. These things gave him strength; this time alone with his thoughts focused only on the present went a way toward rejuvenating him.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had to go back inside and watch the news coverage.

He tilted his head up to face the sky and closed his eyes.

Yes.

He would go back inside, watch and rewatch every moment of the trial coverage if necessary, do a side investigation of the witnesses, listen to all commentating viewpoints and formulate the trigger for David's confession.

Yes.

He would do all that and more, just...

 _Five minutes. I'll go back in, in five minutes._

* * *

Emily emerged from her room, grogginess leaving her with each step. She'd woken from a deep black sleep and laid in bed, eyes roaming her room as she wondered if the day before had been real. Had it happened? Had her father just confessed to everything?

The salted tracks on her face confirmed it, she'd fallen asleep crying.

She entered the living room and found Nolan in his place on the sofa, leaning forward to stare at his open laptop on the coffee table. The dark circles under his eyes told the story - while she'd slept, Nolan had been up all night. For her father, for her.

"I slept so late."

He startled at her voice and hurried to agree, "Yes. You'd just had a huge shock and you were upset. You weren't yourself."

Emily regarded him steadily. She could see the lie, the guilt. They weighed on him, a heavy black cloud. All at once, she knew. "No. You put something in my drink."

It wasn't a question, nor an accusation. The girl spoke a fact and the truth of what he'd done broke him.

"Yes." His voice was heavy, hoarse from the crying he'd done as she'd slept in the haze he'd slipped over her. "It was just something meant to calm you down, I wasn't trying to...to-"

He sputtered to defend himself, but what could he say? He knew how it looked, his dosing her. Truly his intention had only been to ensure she wouldn't suffer from the panic overtaking her again. It had been terrifying to see her like that, shuddering on the floor and struggling to breathe, crippled by fear for her father. Nolan had only wanted her to be able to rest, to escape her disturbing reality and find some refuge in sleep. There was another layer to what he had done; he had wanted her settled so that he could indulge his own despair over the lies that David had screamed out to the world.

With good reason.

He had failed David and where he had wanted to help Emily, he had done the wrong thing as he always did, and ruined everything again, as he always did.

He'd tried to help David, he'd tried to mend things with Marco and he'd tried to help Emily and he had truly and utterly failed every last person he loved. He'd failed them, he'd hurt them. He'd made everything worse and he was drifting, he had no idea how he could fix any of this.

Emily had put all her faith in him and he had rewarded that by violating her trust.

He surged off the sofa and went to his knees before her, a plea for her forgiveness. Not just for the night before, but for everything. For failing her, for failing her father.

"Emily, I'm sorry."

"Nolan. We're in this together. You can't ever do that to me again."

"I won't. I'm so sorry, Emily. I shouldn't have done it last night and I'll never do it again. You have my word."

"Never again. Say it."

Emily felt a strange _thrum_ of power in commanding him this way.

Nolan Ross, captain of industry, titan of all technology, brought so low that he'd gone to his knees and humbled himself before a girl.

Over a year ago, he had commanded her to accept and embrace her new name, Emily Thorne, and the new life he had crafted for her. He'd touched her that day, pulling at her hair and asserting his dominance in a way that had made her eager to obey.

She did the unexpected, then, and moved to touch him. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed his forehead as he promised her, "Never again."

A dark urge rose in her to take the risk and truly kiss the man.

Yes she could kiss him, but the more terrifying prospect than Nolan immediately stopping her and sending her back to Europe or worse, to Millhouse for her insanity, was that he might actually return her kiss and take things further, bear her down on the floor and take it all in some mad fit of driving lust, hurting her, ignoring her begging to _stop, please, stop!_

Emily blinked, shaking the thought.

Despite her fevered imagination, the reality of a grown man's attention was terrifying.

She should know.

Emily pulled from him, turning her attention from one of the men in her life and focusing it on the other. "Tell me what's going to happen with my father."

Nolan had sensed the change in the air as Emily had kissed him, but he would never speak of it. Now was not the time. He shook off the odd moment and cleared his throat, all business in an instant. He had to shelve his weakness for her, Emily needed him to be strong; now more than ever. "Denise is doing all she can. As of right now we don't know if David is going to be transferred or return to Lockhart. She did tell me that his defense team is already working on an appeal. Maybe they'll claim he snapped under the stress of the trial."

"So he'll have another chance." No hope rose in her with the words. Her father may have another chance to go to court, but the damage had been done. By now there couldn't be a soul in the world who hadn't seen him proudly declare his guilt. What good would another chance at a trial be if he'd already condemned himself?

"It won't happen this year. It may not even happen next year, with everything in upheaval. But yes, in time, he'll have another chance in court."

 _Another chance, in another year. Probably longer. More years...of_ **this** _._

The girl nearly swayed on her feet.

"What do we do now?"

"The only thing we can do." Nolan sighed lightly. "We go on as we have. You keep being Emily Thorne, I'll keep being your guardian. In a few weeks, at the end of summer I'll send you back to school, and you'll live out your sophomore year. I'll bring you home for every break just like I promised you last year - every break and holiday. Even though we don't know where David stands yet, I'll find a way to get a message to him. There has to be a way. As for today..." He could think of only one thing that might work to cheer her despite the nightmare that had become her life. "Do you want to go into town?"

The look in her eyes spoke volumes.

The girl was lost.

Emily said nothing as she turned and walked back to her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

* * *

"Sir...how is the girl?"

Nolan sighed and rubbed at his forehead, trying to ease the tension there. He was so tired; worrying for Emily and tracking the case had become his second career. Emily had withdrawn into herself since David's confession, ignoring the world and doing God knows what in her room all day.

"She's a wreck, Denise."

"What is she doing now?"

"Sleeping, I think. That or she's gotten into my bar to drink the place dry or she's stolen my car or she's jumped off the cliff in the backyard, I don't know."

"None of that sounds healthy."

Nolan pulled lightly at his hair, frustrated. "I'm exaggerating. Emily's upset but she isn't hurting herself. She's become so withdrawn. All she's done for the past week is sleep and stay in her room. I bring her meals and she barely eats a bite, I invite her out to do things that she likes but she just ignores me. I don't know what to do. I just...I'm afraid that she's giving up. News about David might snap her out of it, do you have anything?"

Denise bit her lip. "No. I wish I did. I called because...I wanted to check in on the both of you."

"Oh. Thank you, Denise. That's kind of you." Nolan smiled in spite of himself.

"Don't tell anyone, reports of kindness would ruin my professional reputation."

"Right. Well, we can't have that."

Their usual banter fell flat, out of place.

"I don't have any news. Nothing yet. Two days after his confession, Mr. Clarke's defense team was suspended. My source there has gone dry. I've reached out to some friends, but you must understand that due to Flight 197 there have been rifts in the highest levels of government. A new department is forming with entire divisions being reassigned under it. Agents are shifting their allegiance and my sources' access is changing. Patience will be key."

Nolan sighed. It wasn't promising for their side, this shifting of source access. "Isn't it always?"

"Always, sir. I'll call at the end of the week if I learn anything."

"Thank you."

Nolan hung up and walked into the house from the backyard. He looked at the closed door of Emily's bedroom for several long seconds. The plate from lunch was still on the floor outside her door, the food untouched.

This couldn't go on.

 _It wouldn't._

Nolan couldn't say where the impulse came from, but he was suddenly so angry, so determined, and he didn't hesitate as he barged into Emily's room. The stench of stale air and an unwashed teenage body was heavy in the closed space; he ignored it as he strode toward the bed. The room was dark but he could see her easily enough. In the split second it took him to enter the room and reach her, Emily has startled into awareness and demanded what the hell he was doing, but Nolan ignored the question and grabbed her arm, hauling her out of bed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Nolan, let me go!"

He pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the shower with one hand, the other still holding on to an incensed Emily. He turned to her, "You've been in your room for a week. You've barely eaten a thing and you're filthy. Get in the shower."

"No! Just leave me alone! I hate you!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Wrong answer." He hauled her closer and shoved her into the shower stall, clothes and all.

Emily screamed from the shock of the cold water and the indignation of his bullish behavior. Nolan ignored her cursing at him. "Scream all you want, Ems, but this rut of yours is over. Scrub up, get dressed and come out for dinner."

Nolan left the bathroom and returned a moment later, dropping some clean clothes on the bathroom counter. Clearly, he meant for her to wear actual clothes to dinner rather than the pajamas she'd been wearing for so long, and clearly he wouldn't tolerate an argument. He had reached the end of his patience with her.

Emily screamed at him again as she struggled to take off her soaked shirt and turn the water temperature up from the icy setting it had been when he'd first pushed her into the spray. Again the man ignored her foul mouth and turned to leave once he saw she was stripping in the stall.

Emily was so angry she was seeing red, but her body was thrilling under the shower, relieved to be cleansed after a week spent in bed, growing filthy with the passing of unwashed days. Scowling and promising revenge against the man, she threw her soaked clothes over the door of the stall and since she was there already, went ahead and reached for the soap. She scrubbed herself furiously as the grime lifted away, until her skin showed pink and new. She used the last of her shampoo in washing her hair, forcing her fingers through the tangles as she thought of all the ways she would make Nolan pay for what he'd done to her.

* * *

On emerging from her room, scrubbed clean and wet hair combed back off her face, Emily found Nolan in the kitchen. He pointed at the table where there was a single place setting, a steaming plate of fresh spaghetti and meatballs was set there, the aroma making her mutinous mouth water with awakened appetite.

"Sit and eat."

Emily scowled at his order, but did as she was told. On the first bite, her resolve crumbled in the face of hunger.

Nolan sat down across from her and watched as she ate the full plate.

Once he was satisfied to see that she'd eaten, he got up from the table and went outside.

He'd shocked himself by what he'd done - but she had shocked him even worse, for it was clear that she hadn't been taking care of herself. She must have been spending most of her time lazing in bed and only eating a few bites of the meals he'd been bringing her. In the glimpse he'd caught of her in the shower, Emily had appeared thinner. She was already slender to start; any weight loss was alarming.

He had promised David that he would protect his daughter, and he'd already let himself slip in his duty. Already he'd failed her.

He couldn't let her slide into a depression; she needed him to bring her back, and he would do it. Again and again, he would fight for her.

Nolan stared out over the view, listening to the waves rolling in the twilight of the evening.

* * *

Emily dutifully washed her dish and set it in the drying rack, looking at Nolan through the doors leading to the backyard. The man was standing there, just staring out at the shore. He was waiting for her to join him, she knew. Pride clawed at her. She knew she was in the wrong - not just for how she'd behaved toward Nolan these last several days, but in allowing her emotions to control her, allowing herself to wallow in self-pity like a pig in muck. She had betrayed the promise she'd made her father to stay strong. She had betrayed the promise she'd made herself to refuse weakness, to harden her heart to get through this ordeal, to do whatever it took to move forward.

Everything was so frustrating...but no amount of frustration could justify how she'd treated Nolan. When this had all started, she'd been determined to prove herself as an asset to him, not a burden.

Yet here they were.

The girl sighed.

Nolan was all she had, and she truly loved him - surely in ways that she shouldn't, surely in ways that she couldn't expect him to ever return.

Just as Nolan had forced her out of isolation, Emily had to be the one to mend this rift.

She stepped outside and stood next to him, her eyes fixed out to the same view of the shore.

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting."

Nolan nodded, his eyes similarly cast out to the horizon. "I'm sorry for being rough. That's not my way."

Emily reached across the space between them and took his hand, squeezing it in her own. "I know it's not. You didn't hurt me, but I should never have driven you to doing that in the first place. Where do we go from here?"

Nolan squeezed her hand in return, pulling her with him back toward the house. "Let's go for a drive."


	24. Part 2

**Part 2**

* * *

"...coming to you now from the home of Grayson Global board spokesman, Conrad Grayson. Conrad?"

"Yes, thank you. We at Grayson Global have been following the news as closely as anyone, perhaps even more so given David Clarke's previous work relationship here with us. Again I want to reiterate, Grayson Global has fully cooperated with the investigative authorities and no connection was ever found between our company and Americon Initiative, none whatsoever. Clarke acted alone, as an agent of the Initiative, his confession confirmed this."

"And yet his defense team attempted to draw a connection between Grayson Global and the Initiative."

"All such attempts were dead ends, desperate ploys by the defense to misdirect the jury and cast blame where it never belonged. In the current climate, it's too easy to demonize a corporation such as Grayson Global as being part of some conspiracy - it makes for an easy target."

"So you do assert that Grayson Global played no part in the Flight 197 tragedy."

"Absolutely. My company, my family, played no part in this disaster. In fact Grayson Global has been a leader in establishing the Flight 197 Victim Relief Fund which to date has raised over 10 million dollars to issue assistance to the families who lost loved ones on that terrible day."

"If you're just joining us, the link for the Flight 197 Victim Relief Fund can be found both on the Grayson Global website and on our network site, the fund accepts donations and referrals for assistance. Conrad Grayson, thank you for your time."

"Thank you."

Conrad took the microphone clip from his shirt and handed it back to the news network tech, his sharp eyes watching as the two-man camera crew packed up all their equipment - nothing to be left behind, nothing that could pick up a stray word that might unravel all the lies that filled his house. The techs were quick in their movements, efficient. They didn't linger in Grayson Manor; news never rested, there were other sound bites to chase and since David Clarke's abrupt confession, the world had made up their mind where he was concerned, content enough to think of the man at the bottom of a deep, dark hole, a fate befitting the man who had brought down Flight 197.

Ever the gracious host, Conrad thanked the men and walked them to the door, his every word inflected with calm joviality, making himself far more relatable than he had any right to be with his position in the world. As soon as the front door shut behind the men, Conrad flipped a switch on the wall, activating a network detector he'd had installed by one of his company's top security men. This detector would disrupt any probing audio or video signals that might have been placed in the mansion - Conrad had had it installed years previously, claiming a need for increased security to protect trade secrets against corporate espionage.

There had been a time when that had been the truth; now, extra security measures were taken to protect Conrad and Victoria from their own words.

Victoria waited in silence for the full ten seconds it took for the network detector to activate, scan the area and beep to indicate that no prying signals had been detected. Still, their speech was never free - Victoria was every bit the conniving survivor that Conrad was, it had been her idea to develop a series of codewords and phrases to mask their true conversation. It was why Nolan, whose signal could get through their security, had still come up empty in his spying.

Where Victoria and Conrad spoke of the Initiative and David Clarke, to anyone listening their words only conveyed small talk on the weather.

"I don't know how you can be so calm, how you can talk to the press so confidently like that." Victoria told her husband, her eyes holding a mix of admiration and fear.

They both feared and were aroused by the monster in each other.

"You're one to talk - you played your part to perfection. He never would have confessed if you hadn't convinced him." Conrad moved to the wet bar and poured two drinks; they had both started drinking earlier and more often in the day.

Victoria shook her head. "I never convinced him! David confessing like that was never part of the plan."

"Maybe not, but his confession worked out even better for us. For everyone. If you hadn't convinced him of the danger, he might have named us. Think of what could have happened to our children." Conrad handed her a glass and watched in appreciation as she gulped it down. For a society lady, Victoria could drink him under the table.

"Our children are the only reason I did it." She defended lightly, moving to pour herself another drink.

"Right. The only reason." Conrad fought to hide his smile. Victoria could pretend it all she liked that she had helped to frame David for the sake of the children, but the truth as plain as day: Victoria had sold that man out after the first whisper of possible Grayson involvement. It had been her idea to visit David in prison, in that ridiculous blonde wig, with the story of the Initiative hounding her family and she, desperate to disappear.

If only David knew.

Victoria had passed baby Charlotte off to a nanny and gone out to dinner with her girlfriends an hour after she had stepped out of Lockhart.

"Keep our children in mind if you ever decide to climb up on that high horse. You're in it, Victoria. You have been since the beginning." Conrad warned her. She was every bit the monster he was - they would be fools to trust each other.

"I never knew it would turn into-"

"Keep telling yourself that. You were there in the room when the plans were made. You benefitted off of it just as we all did. We're all guilty, but better that David take the fall for it. It was him or us. And now, thanks to your spectacular performance and his confession, the Initiative is satisfied. This is over. They'll move on, and so will we."

"Move on to what?"

"We can move on to whatever we want. We're free."

Conrad raised his glass to her, and Victoria raised her glass to his, clinking the rims together.

 _Cheers._

The Graysons toasted to their profit off the Crime of the Century and the fall of David Clarke.

* * *

Weeks of uncertain silence stretched on into the last days of summer.

After the initial shock of David's confession, Nolan and Emily had had no choice but to resume their roles: he the carefree genius and she, his stylish ward. Every few days they would venture into town for meals, to shop and to watch the comings and goings of Hamptonites and tourists alike. Occasionally Nolan would take her into the city for a few days spent at his apartment to enjoy the change of scenery, only to return to summer life on the beach and begin again. Everywhere they went, reminders of the upset at the trial followed them - every television screen in beach bars and city store windows, every news broadcast, every late night comedy skit show and every conversation heard in passing.

Every day they woke with the hope for news of David Clarke and the prospect of a fresh trial or continuance of proceedings or even the man's current location.

Every night they went to bed, disappointed.

Emily did not allow herself to wallow in depression again; her days spent in bed just after the trial, growing filthy and fatigued, the shame of Nolan seeing her that way was equal to her anger at herself for allowing such a weakness in the first place. She could never let it happen again. What would her father think?

As for Nolan, the man tried to make Emily happy, but his love language with her was largely expressed through material goods: in addition to the Stowaway, he'd made several lucrative investments on her behalf, opened an account for her worth millions and had even gone so far as to buy her a sporty red BMW as a birthday gift.

Emily was entirely grateful to Nolan; she knew what he had sacrificed to be her guardian and she could only guess how much longer this arrangement could last. She couldn't expect that Nolan would want to be anchored by her forever. She had to plan for a life without him sharing in it.

They both did.

* * *

There was a day, weeks after her father's shouted confession and deep into the summer, that Emily woke with the sun.

She lay in bed for several minutes, listening for Nolan but the man wasn't up and about yet. He wasn't lazy by any means, but he tended to sleep in during their shared summers in the Hamptons. No small wonder; he spent his nights developing ideas for NolCorp and his days entertaining the girl.

Emily got up and rather than dress for her morning run, she simply walked down to the beach in her tank top and sleep shorts. The sun was warming the sand but it was still a bit cool under her feet. She moved to the shore and let the water wash up over her ankles. She stood, listening to the soft rush of the waves and the calling of the gulls. Dark eyes stared out to the water, stinging from the salted wind and bright sun.

 _Keep going. One last breath to end all this. It would be so easy..._

Emily startled herself out of that thought, repulsed. _Get ahold of yourself._

Given everything that had happened, she was prone to dark thoughts. Suspicion, paranoia, despair, hate, anger. There had been days where she didn't want to leave her bed, nights when she didn't sleep for the violent, torturous thoughts of what she would do to the people who had taken her father away.

 _If you give up now, it lets them win. I won't let them have it. They took dad but I won't let them have me! Someday, I'll make them know how it feels to lose everything._

She was desperate for an ending to all of this, but ending herself would solve nothing and her despair was not so deep. Life called out to her, so many experiences yet to be tasted.

Travel. Friends. School. Dating. Sex. College. Career. Love. Marriage. Children.

Meaning. A purpose.

Another day, another night.

She wanted all the tomorrows that life promised, even if David may never play a part in any of them.

In the future she would need to make peace with that, but she wouldn't do it yet.

* * *

Weeks passed until the days of summer had run through, until the deadline arrived and Nolan had no choice but to send Emily across the Atlantic, back to a lonely if thorough education, with the flimsy promise to alert her the moment Denise provided him with any updates.

"I promise, Emily, I'll tell you as soon as I hear something." His eyes had been so earnest as he'd held her hands in his, the whining engine of his jet on the tarmac almost growing loud enough to drown out his voice.

Emily had nodded. "I know you will, Nolan."

She trusted him completely, and loved him with her whole heart even as her soul wailed against their shared helplessness.

It had been years since this had all began, and what had changed?

She still lived the lie Nolan had built. Her father was still in a cage.

Only Nolan was free to live his life, yet he imposed restraints on himself for her sake.

On impulse, she'd stepped forward to hug him and even went so far as to kiss his mouth - deliberately avoiding the perfunctory kiss on the cheek he expected. It was a claiming gesture; she wanted him, even if a peck on the lips was all she could have. Selfish of her, but she did it anyway and she would do it again, and more, if she knew it would lead to what she wanted.

Nolan had been surprised by the kiss but he didn't say anything about it. In a way, he thought he understood. He only hugged her again and wished her a safe flight.

Emily promised to contact him once she returned to school, then turned and boarded the NolCorp jet.

The flight across the sea was spent refining the image of Emily Thorne, sophomore edition.


	25. Chapter 25

Nolan regularly checked in with Emily through the whale camera he'd sent her the year prior - at the time it'd been one of a kind, but now NolCorp sold had millions of similar webcams all over the world. Emily had just read a UK magazine article detailing how NolCorp stock was on the rise, bringing its founder Nolan Ross into the long-coveted Billioaire's Club. His technology could be found everywhere, from the military to hospitals to boardrooms and every cell phone on the planet. As it was known that Emily held a close reaction to the man, she had gained new levels of popularity.

Not that it mattered.

Money couldn't buy back her father, but it had bought her way into several incidents of mischief and then immediately bought her way out of trouble.

It had started with an argument on the volleyball court that had grown out of control, with more than a few vulgar insults spat at the referee in several languages - Nolan had smoothed things over from his New York office with two phone calls. Emily didn't lose her place on the team, nor did her school suffer any demerits, just a quick warning to watch her temper in the next game.

When he had informed her of this, she had thanked him for his help but showed no remorse over her outburst.

Why should she?

The other team had pulled a foul, and the referee had let it pass, leaving Emily's team enough points behind to lose in the little time they'd had left on the clock. To be denied what was fair, to see the game authority dismiss a foul and allow the offense, it set her off. Before the girl could stop her mouth, she'd called it out, disrupted everything and let her rage run free.

In hindsight, causing such a scene was embarrassing - she'd earned more than a few looks and whispers the next day in all her classes - but it hadn't truly been about losing a volleyball game. In the moment it had felt so freeing, that loss of control, that flash of power she'd felt in exposing a wrong, the thrill of subverting the rules and finally saying what was on her mind.

Emily enjoyed school and her team, but she'd found that she enjoyed disobedience even more.

And so began the rebellion.

A classroom sweep had caught Emily redhanded with a flask of liquor in her backpack. Nolan had cleared her of any wrongdoing with an e-mail assuring the school headmaster that such an incident was surely just teenage mischief, and not something that needed to go on record - not with the school expansion he'd donated just on the horizon of breaking ground.

A shrewd plain-clothes security guard at a boutique had observed Emily slip a few items - bottles of nail polish, a scarf, a few lipsticks - into her purse and stopped her just before she'd made it out of the shop. Nolan begrudgingly handled this situation as well; he was catching on to this pattern of pointless mischief. He understood Emily acting out of anger over her father, but he knew she was too smart and too good to keep this up for much longer. Still, he kept the incident off the record by way of a very generous donation.

This paled in comparison to what came next.

When graffiti appeared in the girls' bathroom accusing a math instructor of an affair with a male student, in was largely ignored. A bigger statement was needed, and so an incriminating photograph was circulated in the school e-mail system. Emily didn't even try to hide it - simply put, she'd found a wrong and when the school authority failed to act, she took control and _forced_ a reaction.

The instructor was dismissed, the student was provided the option of counseling.

Emily's actions, while done with righteous intent, were still found to be in violation of school policy.

At the first hint of reprimand, Nolan turned his attack dog loose on the entire administration. Denise had never been one for holding back, it had taken one snarling phone call to ensure that Emily would face no retaliation whatsoever for what she had done.

And so it went.

Emily would act out in some way, and Nolan would swoop in to wave the trouble away. He would speak with her online, trying to coax the reasoning from her, but Emily refused to address it. She would ask for news of her father, of which there would be none, and she would change the subject.

There was little that Nolan could do with an ocean between them, and enforcing discipline on her wasn't his strong suit - still the man tried. He could see she was acting out, and he couldn't blame her - frankly he was thankful she wasn't doing anything dangerous; what teenager hadn't found their way into some trouble in high school?

He'd done the same thing and been caught several times.

"...but that doesn't make it _right_." He'd stressed to her through the screen.

Emily outright ignored his warning and asked after her father. "Has Denise told you anything?"

Nolan stifled the impulse to roll his eyes. Everything always came back to David, but he couldn't expect anything else from Emily at this point, and knew that what he told her now would result in another incident of trouble within the week. He'd already forewarned his assistant. "No, I told you. I've hacked everything but there isn't a listing for David in any system. Denise needs time to develop the sources who would have access to his location. Even then, when we find him, we may not be granted visitor access."

"We're not going to let a little thing like the law stop us, are we?" She'd meant it as a joke, but Nolan scowled at her.

"You need to stop that, Ems. I won't be around to get you out of trouble forever."

His words struck deep in her, and for a horrible moment she was gripped with fear and anger.

Fear that he would abandon her, anger that he would threaten her that way.

"What're you saying? You'd leave me?"

Nolan clenched his jaw, wishing he hadn't said that, wishing he could touch her. She would be easier to tame if they were together. "Never that. You know I won't. I just meant...I understand, Ems. Or, I understand as best I can, why you're being...look, just be careful, all right? A little trouble here and there never hurt anyone, but promise me it ends here."

She bristled at that. "Why should I?"

"Because it has to. You're on the administration's radar for the wrong reasons now, for exposing their dirty laundry. There's an investigation and I'm sure you know the scandal has been in the news. Put another toe out of line and you could get yourself exposed."

"So, what, stay quiet and protect them, let them get away with harboring a teacher who preys on the students here? Why should anyone get away with something like that?"

"No, just...there are other ways to go about things - you could have shown that picture to the police or you could have told me, let me expose them and keep you out of things all together."

"You think I don't know that? I wanted them to know it was me!" She declared, defiantly proud.

Such pride would be her downfall, while Nolan's love would be his.

"There are other ways to play hero than by risking what we've built."

His voice carried a deep edge of warning, but Emily couldn't stop her own smart mouth. "Oh, like what, volunteering at an animal shelter?"

"It would look nice on college applications." He bit out. "It ends today, Emily. I'm not asking."

Emily said nothing, but Nolan could read the anger in her glare just before she cut their connection and the screen went blank.


	26. Chapter 26

Emily ignored Nolan's Skype call the next night. And the next. There was an e-mail from him waiting in her inbox and a matching text on her phone, short and to the point.

 **I hate fighting with you, but we're not done talking about this. Call me when you're ready. You know I'm here for you, always.**

Reading his message pulled at her heart and she wished Nolan meant those last words in a deeper, more intimate way. Her love for the man was growing more confusing by the day, and was part of the reason behind her avoidance. Emily was well aware that Nolan could talk her into anything, her love gave him a power over her which only added to her confusion and gaining resentment.

Emily kept a diary of sorts, a small notepad that she filled with her scribbled shorthand. No one but her could decipher what all she'd written - obsessive lists of names (Victoria Grayson, Conrad Grayson, Mason Treadwell, Lydia Davis...) and what she'd like to do to them (unspeakable violence, all ending in their public humiliation and death), her fantasies of a free life, and several pages dedicated to fantasies of Nolan.

The girl tore those pages out of the notebook and fed them into the desk shredder.

She allowed herself a fresh page where Nolan was concerned and wrote out one final declaration with a bright red Sharpie.

 **He will never love me.**

The sooner she made herself believe it, the sooner she could focus on her life going forward. She didn't want to give up hope but all around her was the dreaded sense that it was over - her father had confessed to bringing down Flight 197, for whatever reason, the man had condemned himself and would never be free. She may never see her father again.

Nolan would tolerate her awhile more, but in all likelihood Emily would find herself alone in the world once she was legally an adult.

She would be more than well-off, she knew, but she would still be alone.

 _Nolan can't love me and dad will never be free. Soon, it'll just be me._

Since their disagreement, Emily had been sulky and withdrawn. She was mad at him for dismissing her perspective, for prizing the lie of Emily Thorne over the growing principles of Amanda Clarke. In a way, they were both right and the argument stemmed from neither of them admitting to being wrong.

Well.

She couldn't stay angry forever.

Not with Nolan, at least.

* * *

In the home office of his New York apartment, Nolan pounced on his computer at the first chime of his Skype notice.

Emily's face appeared on the screen, her hair now layered about her shoulders and dyed a bright flaming red. For a moment he was shocked at the change - red didn't suit her, but neither had the goth black or the overbronzed brunette. Nothing would suit but her natural coloring, this was just another mask.

"I'm sorry, Nolan."

The words were out before he could even greet her properly.

He took a breath. "So am I. Ems, I didn't mean to boss you the other day."

Across the ocean, she shook her head. "It was my fault. You were right. I should have told you first, not gone out of my way to show off what I'd done."

Emily didn't believe anything of what she was saying; the thrill of disobedience and exposing a wrong had been too strong. One taste and she was happily addicted. She would do it again and again if given half the chance. Going forward, she would only be careful enough to keep Nolan from learning of her hand in it. She was happy enough with her private victories.

Oddly, keeping a secret from Nolan was a thrill in itself.

"I understand why you did it. Something like that, a teacher and a student, it couldn't be left alone. I just don't want any negative attention on you. It could lead to questions."

"What about hiding in the spotlight?" She reminded him.

"For good things, of course. Your grades, your value to your team, that article you wrote for the school paper." Emily blushed at this, she hadn't thought Nolan knew about that but clearly he was keeping close tabs. She wondered what else he knew. "But the last thing either of us needs is for anyone to start poking around in your past and asking how you and I came to be together."

Emily was well aware of how exposing their arrangement would ruin Nolan's life.

Harboring the underage daughter of a terrorist? She knew how things would look. He would lose everything.

Emily would never allow that to happen.

"You're right, Nolan. Again, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He nodded, satisfied with that. "Denise is still developing a source. The Department of Homeland Security is a new section of the government, different agencies all rolled up under one heading. With what happened, everyone there is hyper-aware of the danger in letting information spill to outsiders. I wish it was as easy to find him as it had been before, but I'm trying to think of this as a new challenge to tackle. If we just stay positive, then we'll find him, Ems. I promise you."

The girl tried to force softness into her voice. "I know we will, Nolan. Thank you. I...you know, it's getting late. I think I'm going to turn in. Big test tomorrow." She would have kept talking with him, but she found that she just didn't have it in herself to pretend with him tonight. He was forcing it, she could tell, and she was sure that he could sense she was pretending as well.

Why bother lying to each other?

Even if they found David, if by a miracle they were granted another visitation arrangement - what would she even say to her father, after all this time and after the confession that had doomed him?

If David was never free again, then what point was there in seeing him?

Emily shook off that dreaded line of thinking. Of course she wanted to see her father again. Every minute that she lived the lie Nolan had built, Emily was thinking of David. Where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe, if he was thinking of her, and why, why had he confessed to Flight 197 and an alliance to Americon Initiative?

"Got it, gotta keep your grades up."

Emily blinked, and recalled that she needed to inform him of the travel plans she'd made earlier in the day. "Yes. We have a long weekend coming up, I'm going to visit the UK."

"Really? That'll be fun, Ems, when is it? I could fly out and meet you in London-" Nolan began, but Emily was quick to cut him off.

"Nolan, that'd be fun but...I was invited to go with a group, you know?" A lie that flowed all too easily off her lips.

Visibly crestfallen, Nolan nodded. "Oh. All right. The cool kids are running off to party, leaving the nerd behind. This is high school all over again!"

"You're so dramatic! You said I needed to make friends while I was here." Emily pointed out, amused.

Nolan shrugged, "Yes, and I meant it. I'm happy for you, really. I'm sure this trip will be a lot of fun for you."

"I think it will be."

"You don't seem all that excited." He noted.

Emily faltered. Perhaps it would be best to scale back their contact, the man knew her too well. "I'm just tired, nervous over the test."

"You'll be fine, you're at the top of your class! Once it's over, just take a deep breath and do something fun afterward to treat yourself." He advised. "Get a coffee at that cafe you like, or get your nails done, something like that."

"Maybe. I'll talk to you soon."

"All right. Good luck on your test."

"Thanks, I'll let you know how it goes." Emily twisted the whale cam's tail fin, cutting their connection.

In the sudden silence, the girl took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Soon, very soon, she would be in a different yet familiar place, retracing steps taken in her past that may help her walk the lonely road into her future.


	27. Chapter 27

Money couldn't buy happiness, but it had bought reinvention.

A new name, a new past.

A new life.

Enough money could buy a hundred different lives.

She could be anyone, go anywhere.

Any yet she chose _this._

Or rather, she'd allowed Nolan to choose for her.

For now.

For Amanda Clarke, Nolan's money had bought a new life, and more. The man had bought her a future far divergent from what she would have faced without him. She wondered about it very often, what life would have looked like without the man. She might still be in Millhouse, or she might have been placed in the foster care system.

In either case life would have been a misery.

Nolan had saved her from that, worked to get her access to her father and respected her enough to treat her as the adult she strived to become. The man also kept a measure of control over her life, even now.

There was balance in all things, she supposed.

At least until she was 18 and then she would make every choice for herself.

For now, though...

The girl smiled to the doorman and stepped outside her hotel.

Emily breathed in London Fog and moved to take the first steps on her memory tour.

* * *

Her trip to England had been half an impulse and half a calculated risk.

The high-rise hotel room had been booked with the money her "cousin" so generously provided her, a NolCorp debit card tied to hundreds of thousands of dollars. On her 18th birthday she would have access to even more. She couldn't buy her father's freedom yet but she had bought her way to a long weekend spent in the UK. She had told Nolan that she'd been invited by a group of friends, but that had been a lie. In truth, Emily had come to the UK alone.

Not to sightsee or to attend the musical festivals.

The girl couldn't fully explain the urge, but she wanted to retrace the steps she'd taken here with her father. She had gone to the UK to explore the neighborhood where they'd lived. Once checking in at the hotel - by way of a fake ID she'd bought from a senior at school - she had put on her favored gray hoodie before setting out on foot in search of happier pastimes.

Emily had enjoyed her time in the UK, what restaurants and little events that her father had allowed. She'd only been a child, after all.

It was strange to see it all again as a near-adult, to retrace her steps on the same streets they'd walked together. She walked past her old primary school, then walked on to where she spent a full fifteen minutes staring at the front of the flat where they'd lived. It looked different than she remembered. She saw the new family - a mother, twin toddler boys and their father - walk up the steps and go inside.

They all seemed so happy, and why wouldn't they be?

They were together.

They were _home._

Emily visited the little diner where she ate the same order of Cottage Pie that they used to split for lunch on the weekends but now she ate the whole plate alone and choked on her tears. The waitress had been nice enough but she'd given Emily a worried look as she'd cleared the table and set down the check. Emily paid in cash and rushed out the door.

She'd pulled the hood over her head and walked to the park she recalled had been just a block past the diner... _ah, there it is._

Emily closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the grass, a welcome change from the wafts of food from the diner and the exhaust of the cars going past in the street. The park was a cleared space, a slice of green with urban sprawl surrounding it. A few bushes, flower beds, four trees with squirrels running back and forth in the branches, a bubbling three tiered fountain in the center, benches that she and David had sat on while trying to eat their ice cream cones before they melted in the summer sun. Their Sunday morning tradition, for far too short a time.

In those days the park had seemed to spread out for miles, she'd once believed that the trees were so tall they could poke holes in the clouds and cause the rain.

And now?

It was all so much smaller.

 _Dimmer._

Emily sank onto a bench, sitting right there, in the same spot where she'd sat years before.

Was this what her life would be like? Chasing the past and finding it all wanting?

She was revisiting familiar places hoping to find her father waiting for her.

The girl shot to her feet and fled the park, intent to get back to the hotel.

 _This is insane. I have to stop doing this._

Emily wanted to become the cold, indestructible force of a woman who could bring down Americon Initiative. She didn't want this, to be trapped in this sense of confusion and helplessness and anger and - _she didn't want to care!_

She swiped tears off her face and headed into the hotel lobby, charging straight into the elevator. Tonight she would close the drapes and ignore the magnificent view of London. She would watch garbage TV until she fell asleep, which wouldn't take long since she planned on raiding the minibar - every tiny bottle would find its way down her throat.

 _This trip is over._

She would never tell Nolan about this.

In the morning she would book a flight and return to school.

There was nothing here for her.

* * *

On the other side of the world, while Emily was determined to make a traveling juvenile delinquent of herself, Nolan Ross stayed busy on two fronts: expanding NolCorp and pushing for news of David Clarke. There was nothing else for him.

Well, almost.

 _Ahem._

Nolan insisted that Denise use bribery and blackmail, intimidation and coercion, whatever it took to find out where the man had been taken; since the trial there had been broad speculation about the future of the case, but no solid information. With shifting access and personnel in the government, her original sources had dried up and it would take time to make inroads with new contacts.

"Denise, I know we keep hitting a wall with this but _someone_ out there knows where he is, and that someone has to want _something."_ Nolan insisted from his city office. With summer over, he'd returned to the Manhattan high rise and the NolCorp headquarters. As anyone might, he preferred the beach, but needs must. Even for him. "It's almost always money, isn't it? Someone will talk! We have to find David, otherwise I don't know how far off the deep end Emily will go."

On the other end of the line, Denise had half-listened to the ranting of her prized client and poured herself a drink. God knew she needed it, given what the man had put her through over the past year and change.

"Sir, yelling at a coach hardly constitutes going off the deep end. If anything, she has shown remarkable restraint in maintaining the cover you built. The incident on the court and being caught with vodka in class is normal teenage rebellion." She reasoned as she scrolled through her e-mail.

"Emily isn't...she's not normal." Normal was the last way he would describe the girl. In some ways, yes, Emily was like other girls but by and large her upbringing and experience had made her wholly unique. He worried for her at the same time he trusted in her resilience.

"Perhaps not, but I don't see her misbehavior going much further than it already has."

Oh, if only Denise Walker could see into the future.

"I hope you're right. This turn she's taken, it's just so unlike her, you know? Maybe I shouldn't have given her the new name or sent her away...after everything she's been through, I just worry she could snap from the stress of it all."

Denise knew what he wanted from her: reassurance.

He wanted to hear that he had done right by that girl, that he was doing the right thing now.

It was not easy serving as both his PR agent and personal attorney; she couldn't see a quick end to this madness concerning the Clarkes; her main concern was to keep Nolan at a safe distance from the entire situation. That and to arrange contingency plans should the worst come to light. They all understood how it could look from the outside.

And, still...

Nolan was determined to get in touch and resume visitation for the girl - he was under the impression that a similar deal could be struck as when Clarke had been held in Lockhart.

It didn't work that way, Denise had tried to tell him.

She wanted to scream it at him, really.

After such a confession, David would be held in a super max facility. There would be security protocols put in place that Nolan's money couldn't overcome, and even an attempt at visitation would risk exposing the fact that he had the terrorist's daughter after he'd made refuting statements to the media just that past summer.

Denise planned on billing Nolan for the salon visits where she had the gray hairs the man gave her dyed back to black.

Still.

Nolan Ross was her client.

Her job, her mission, was to do as he asked, provide him advice, and plan ahead for any backfire from his actions.

It took months, but in the end, she did as her client requested and got the information.

This is what she was, wasn't it?

His attack dog, his courtroom shark, his legal eagle.

She took great pride in representing this man; his genius and compassion paired together was a rare thing, but his heart would jeopardize everything he'd built if she didn't protect him.

She only hoped that, in the end, everything she did would prove worth the cost.


	28. Chapter 28

"Sir, when can we inform Miss Thorne on the whereabouts of her father?"

Nolan considered Denise's question carefully. Most of him wanted to tell Emily immediately, but a smaller part of him would rather wait; he wanted Emily to tell him her secret before he told her his. It was petty of him, he should be above such a thing, and yet...

"I'll arrange a conference call with her when she gets back to school."

Across the city, Denise raised a brow, curious. "Back to school, sir? Where is she?"

"Japan. Tokyo's business district, to be exact."

"I wasn't aware she was traveling."

"That's because she didn't tell me, and so I didn't tell you." It was a struggle to keep his voice even. He had been at once hurt and angry with Emily for what she was doing, traveling alone without informing him, risking herself and the secret he'd built. Still, no need to show his angst to Denise. "She's been there a week. Eye in the sky. I've been monitoring her bank transactions so I knew when she bought the ticket, booked her hotel room under a fake name and every time she's gone out for tempura and souvenirs." Nolan breathed out lightly and turned his eyes to the view out his office window. It was dark out now, he'd taken to working late through the nights as autumn was giving way to winter. Soon, Emily would join him in the city. "What I can't figure out is why she went there in the first place."

Denise thought on the question. "Who does she know in Tokyo?"

"No one. Emily Thorne doesn't know anyone, but Amanda Clarke might remember a few people. The Clarkes lived there for a few years while David was consulting. She'd been friends with the daughter of one of David's business associates there, Satoshi Takeda. It's strange, though. As far as I can tell she hasn't even reached out to the Takeda family so I'm not sure what she's doing."

Denise absorbed his statements, thinking of the risks, the consequences, the contingencies. "You truly think she would approach this man, Takeda?" Through the line, Nolan could hear the rapid clicking of her keyboard. No doubt she now knew nearly everything about the man, which wouldn't be much. Takeda was notoriously avoidant of the media. "Would she do that, endanger her new identity in such a way by approaching him? After everything you've done for her?"

"I didn't think she would, but this stunt of hers proves I don't know everything she's thinking."

The man was restless over the situation. Emily knew that Nolan could check in with her at any time, but her not mentioning this trip to Japan was pure proof that she was comfortable with hiding things and lying to him. Did she think he simply wasn't paying attention or that he didn't care? He had half a mind to fly to Tokyo just to catch her off-guard, but he'd restrained himself. He wanted to see what she would do.

Maybe she would tell him once she was ready. Maybe she was waiting for the right time.

Nolan didn't like secrets between them, but he was still sitting on a secret of his own.

Well.

Not his secret, but David's.

Emily wasn't the only daughter of David Clarke.

It wasn't his secret to tell, so he'd resolved to keep quiet.

* * *

Emily stared down into her bowl of ramen, the steam rising to heat her face. She wasn't hungry now or the last several times she'd come to this tiny restaurant but she wasn't here for her appetite. In her research she had come across a decade-old magazine article in which Mr. Takeda mentioned one of his favorite local lunch spots.

So.

Rather than approach the man's headquarter building - and the very real possibility of being detained by building security or the Japanese police - Emily had made the short habit of coming to this corner in the hopes of seeing a familiar face, if not an entirely friendly one.

So far she'd had no luck, and her trip was ending soon. In two days she would fly back to school and three weeks after that the semester would be over. From there, she would fly home to Nolan and, she hoped with everything that she had, she would see her father again. There was so much she wanted to tell David. Her triumphs on the volleyball court and in the classroom, she wanted to tell him of her friends and her boyfriend, the mundane details of her daily life...more than anything she wanted to hear her father's voice, smell his scent, be held by him like a little girl again.

She took a hard gulp of her tea, relishing the burn down her throat.

 _I'm not a little girl. I'm not weak. I don't need anyone, I-_

She started as she felt a heavy hand clamp on her shoulder from behind.

"Amanda Clarke."

* * *

The girl sat in a basic office chair, struggling to remain calm. The view over Tokyo out of the floor to ceiling windows behind the man was breathtaking but her focus was on the man at the desk before her. He was older than she remembered, stark gray at his temples and shadows under his eyes; she understood all too well the physical toll that grief and stress could take. Still, his suit was impeccable, his face calm. But then, why wouldn't he be calm? They were in his office, in his building, in his country...and _no one_ knew she was here.

 _O, God, what was I thinking?_

She clenched her hands in her lap to keep their shaking under control. "How did you find me?"

He blinked at the question. "I frequent that restaurant. I am an important man and as such my security team is aware of anything out of the ordinary. A girl like you...well, you understand."

"A girl like me?"

"Ah, I see. You _don't_ understand. This area is not such a melting pot as you know in your country. An American girl coming there twice a day for a week outside of the tourist season, that is unusual. From there it was just recognizing your face from the footage presented to me...you've colored your hair and it has been some time since I've last seen you, but I remember. I always keep track of my business associates, their spouses, even their children. In business, in life, it is important to remain vigilant."

They were both silent for a moment. She absorbed his words, now realizing the spectacle she'd made of herself, how foolish she was for thinking she could escape notice in a place like this. She'd been found out and taken by the very man she'd flown across the world to see; now he sat before her expecting an explanation. Emily visibly deflated, beaten by this disaster she'd created.

"Mr. Takeda...I came here to find you."

"Clearly."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm so sorry you lost your fiance."

"Thank you for your condolences."

His face was a mask.

Distantly, despite her fear, Emily was envious of his cool demeanor; she had tried to bury her true emotions for months, hiding behind makeup and hair dye and fake personas, yet here she was confronted for the first time and her resolve had crumbled apart within minutes. She was shaking like a leaf, trying not to cry when she hadn't lost _anyone,_ yet this man had lost the woman he loved and didn't even blink when he spoke of it.

She didn't know what he would do to her or how he would react to her words, but she licked her lips and found her voice once more. "I also wanted to tell you that my father is innocent."

"On this...we agree."

Emily's eyes widened. No one outside of Nolan believed in David Clarke, even Denise had her doubts about her father. "You think he's innocent too?"

"No. I think he may know who did it and that they framed him for what he knows." He clarified. "That doesn't make him innocent, only less guilty than whoever makes up the Initiative. And I think you know who that may be."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Amanda. Or is it Emily now? Cousin to Nolan Ross. You were pictured in an American tabloid last year outside of your father's prison. Nolan Ross was attacked soon after, said to be in the company of a girl, his cousin, who at that time shared a resemblance to Amanda Clarke. You don't look anything like you did in that picture now. He may have made his statements to the press distancing himself from your father, but please understand that I was in business with your father and I once met Nolan Ross while NolCorp was just coming up - Ross loves your father above anyone. And you show up here, a girl traveling alone, staying in a luxury hotel under an assumed name. All of this, your new identity, this disguise, the money, it's all Nolan Ross's doing, yes?"

"...yes."

Takeda eyed her, unblinking. He could see that she had suffered, but there was more. She had changed, grown. She was a woman restrained by her years, at once impulsive and calculating, hot rage and cold removal. A far cry from the sweet girl who had befriended his own daughter, those years ago during David's consultancy.

"Amanda. There is no point in keeping the lie now. Tell me."

She was quiet for several moments, fisting her hands and clenching her jaw. The only people who knew were her father, Denise, Marco and Nolan himself - it was strange, explaining everything to this man who was little more than a stranger to her.

"Nolan, he...he saved me. After the raid on the house they took my father away and I was put in a children's home. It was more like an asylum. No one would listen and no one would tell me anything! It was awful, I was there for weeks and they...and then Nolan and his lawyer came for me. I stayed with him for months before we were able to see my father in prison. The lawyer, she was able to get me twenty minutes alone with him, once a month. It was _everything_ to me. I didn't have my father but at least I had that one visit to look forward to. Life was so simple in the Hamptons, Nolan and I built a routine. We'd go shopping and to the beach and out to eat, he taught me to drive and he bought me a bar. Nolan didn't have to do any of it, but he gave up so much to help me, even his..." She caught herself, then redirected. "That tabloid picture came out and ruined everything. All at once, the Hamptons weren't safe. Nolan wouldn't let me leave the house and he had to go to the press and _lie,_ saying he had nothing to do with the Clarke family. After that, he had to get back to his life at NolCorp, but he couldn't do that if I was with him. I couldn't stay. Nolan told me his idea to make me into someone new and I...well, what could I do but agree? He gave me a new name, a new look and then he sent me to school. Nolan hid me away from the world to keep me safe." She reached to her face and brushed a tear from her cheek.

She had relived the entire ordeal all over again in the minute it took to tell it.

It was an exhausting relief.

Again, Takeda seemed neither surprised nor impressed with her story of Nolan's altruism. "He is a decent man."

"He is." Unbidden, the memory of the night Marco left and Nolan's heartbreak hidden behind so many smiles. She knew he never would have told her about Marco, he knew she would only blame herself. And she still did. "There's no one else like him."

"Your father often spoke favorably of him."

"They've been friends for a long time. My father trusts him." To anyone else in the world, that statement would condemn Nolan as an accomplice - to Takeda, they were only a confirmation of trust.

The man crossed his legs as he leaned forward across his desk very slightly, suddenly curious. "Does he know you came here?"

Emily took a deep breath, shamed. "I didn't tell him."

"The man has risked everything he built to help you. He may not have said anything about it yet, but he must know you are here. Does he know who downed Flight 197?"

"No." She shook her head. "My father thinks it was someone at Grayson Global. One person or maybe the whole company is a front for Americon Initiative, we don't know for sure. Nolan and I have been trying to figure out who could be behind it but we don't know anything at all, really. And then out of nowhere my father confessed at the trial!"

"Do you know why?"

"No. The police took him away and we haven't been able to get back into contact with him." She continued wringing her hands in her lap. "I stayed with him for as long as I could before Nolan had to send me back to school. I should have told him I was coming here and I'm so sorry that I didn't. Mr. Takeda, please. I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for your loss."

"Again, thank you. I can see that you are sincere. I can also see that you believe your father to be innocent. I too was surprised by his confession. Much like you, I may have some idea why he spoke to condemn himself. Come, Amanda." He stood and buttoned his suit jacket, all business. "You and I have much to discuss."

The girl stood and followed him, this man who now held two lives in his hands.


	29. Chapter 29

Nolan paced up and down the length of his apartment, his mind a swarm of bees, all buzzing with ideas to develop his latest gadget and anticipating the arrival of his winter guest. While the city slept under a blanket of snow, the man was making serious plans that would result in a hardware revolution the world over. Why bother with a tower, a monitor, a keyboard and a mouse when everything could be done on a wireless touch-screen tablet? The NolPad had been one of his greatest innovations, but he was a hound already on the scent of his next great idea: why bother with any hardware at all?

Interactive holograms were the next step, his new dream to be realized.

His imagination was running rampant with visions of every field in the world outfitted with NolCorp hologram projections to guide them through their work. Engineers and architects creating building models of pure light, surgeons using holographic x-rays to guide their operations, police officers able to access instant building layouts to track suspects; he thought of his father in the military applications, where commanders could use holograms to plot courses of action, projected recon and mobility corridors in hostile territory.

 _Not that dad ever had much use for technology beyond his old tube TV!_

Nolan shrugged to himself with a glance at the wall clock. 3:47am. The initial prototype was in the current assembly stage on his kitchen table. It would be finished before Emily arrived, and he intended for her to take it back to school and finish out the semester. Just one of his smaller Christmas gifts, for her to be the first and only with the premier product from NolCorp.

He sighed lightly and closed his eyes, resting them for a moment and picturing Emily in his mind.

Denise had put in the request for visitation with David. It was a different, more secure prison, but the warden - a father himself - had been amenable to Denise's plea for visitation on behalf of the man's daughter. It was Christmas, after all. And the warden had children in college and a wife with expensive tastes. It had been made plain that Nolan would need to express some 'holiday generosity' to facilitate this family reunion.

The man wasn't bothered or surprised by this development. In a way, he had to marvel at the universe - years ago he'd met David, who had invested in him to create NolCorp, which in turn had provided Nolan with the wealth to bribe his way into the prison, which now held David.

 _What a cosmic mess!_

And that wasn't even taking Emily into account.

His contact with the girl this semester had eased off from the near everyday check-ins they'd had in her previous school year. He hadn't minded it at first, seeing it as a sign that Emily was becoming more established as her own person, no longer in need of Nolan's virtual hand-holding.

Now, though.

Nolan knew Emily was hiding things from him - serious things. The mere fact that she hadn't mentioned much of her weekend trip to London from several weeks prior and that she hadn't spoken of her visit to Tokyo at all was proof enough of that.

Not for the first time where Emily was concerned, Nolan didn't know what to do.

He still hadn't brought up that he knew of her trip to Asia, and he hoped that Emily would explain her reasoning to him soon to save him the awkwardness of explaining just _how_ he was keeping tabs.

Still, she may come clean in person once she was with him for the holiday break.

Until then...

Nolan poured himself a drink and retook his seat at the table to continue working on his latest project.

* * *

Emily watched as New York advanced closer, spreading out for miles, buildings and streets and hustling people under a blanket of blinding white snow. The NolCorp jet descended softly, Nolan's pilot always so careful with her transport. Emily's fingers clenched over the armrests of her chair as the plane touched down, bouncing once, then rolling smoothly into its private hangar at the end of the runway.

She closed her eyes briefly, thinking, always thinking.

She had freshened up somewhere over the Atlantic, styling her hair, applying makeup and changing out of her scruffy clothes and into a more suitable outfit for when Nolan came to collect her. He saw her in varying stages of readiness, depending on when their online chats took place, but on first seeing him in person at the start of their visits, Emily always wanted to look her best.

The girl collected her things - her bag, book, and NolPod music player - and headed toward the doorway that had just opened. She could see Nolan across the hangar, approaching the jet. Heart speeding at the sight of him, Emily descended and rushed into his arms. He grunted softly at the impact she made into him, but as had become his wont, he lifted her and twirled her in a circle, the both of them laughing as he set her back on her feet, so happy to see each other in person rather than through a screen.

"Oh, Emily, look at you!" He cupped her face, smiling ear to ear, and then he touched her hair - still dyed a flaming auburn red. "With this color I ought to call you Ginger, I always preferred her over Mary Ann." He teased, flashing her a wolfish smile.

She laughed and batted his hand away, "Nolan!"

"A little flirt never hurt anyone! How was the flight? Let's get you home so you can settle down before we grab some dinner." As always, he was excited to have his guest under wing. Despite the stress of their arrangement, Nolan greatly enjoyed Emily's company and the chance to spoil her - she made it so easy as she was always appreciative of his generosity.

They were a family, for the time being.

He took her bag and ushered her toward his idling car. Emily smiled, "The flight was as smooth as ever, I slept for most of it and woke up about two hours ago. I could definitely eat."

The man slipped behind the wheel and steered them out once she'd secured her seatbelt. "Of course, you need to eat enough to keep up with all the sports you're doing. What is it now, volleyball, track and polo?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, polo doesn't start until next spring, though."

"I never took well to riding the ponies, I stay on the sidelines when it comes to polo and the track." He shook his head. He liked all animals, but the bigger the animal, the more he liked them from a distance.

"I've ridden a couple of the horses at school, they're all pretty friendly but there's this cute dark brown one I favor the most. When the season starts, he'll be my game horse." Emily told him. Once he stopped at a light, Emily showed him a picture of the horse on her phone. In the picture, she was petting the horse's nose in the school's stable yard.

Nolan nodded, impressed with her choice of animal. He was a beautiful horse and she looked happy in the picture. Maybe he'd get her a polo horse of her own when she was finished with school abroad and came back to live in the States.

"Pretty pony! You know, I'm glad you're doing so well. None of this has been easy on any of us, but you've had it tougher than anyone."

She slipped her cell back into her purse. "Nolan, has there been any news?"

"I...let's get you settled in and have dinner. There's a new place I've invested in, you'll love it. After that we can talk some business."

Emily masked her disappointment behind an agreeable smile.

* * *

"This is fantastic." Emily exclaimed as she took another bite of her steak.

Truly, Nolan had outdone himself with his choice of restaurant - rather than a trendy place that overcharged for three peas and a carrot, he had gone the opposite direction and followed his stomach toward a more traditional steak house, all prime cuts on the menu and candles on the table. He had been won over to invest in this place all on the strength of a dinner the chef had prepared especially for him.

Food aside, Emily could see why Nolan liked this restaurant; the tables were more isolated and the setting was intimate. Dark wood paneling and a brick firepit in the center of the floor leant it a great deal of Old World charm. That Nolan was allowing her wine with her meal - "It's the perfect compliment, it'd be a crime to eat this food with anything else!" - was a treat, further feeding her sense of self whenever she was with him.

Tonight, she wasn't a schoolgirl out for dinner with her "cousin", she was every bit a woman on a night out with her lover.

The fantasy was foolish, but she was a fool in love.

Takeda had advised her to be so creative in her fantasies that a piece of her began to believe the lie.

Well.

Why not start here, with him?

She was already well on her way.

"I'm glad you like it, I've invested on your behalf."

"You did? When?"

"Just a few weeks ago, actually. It was between this place or a sushi upstart. Steak is always great but we can't eat it every day. Tomorrow we'll get some Japanese, I know how much you like ramen."

Emily froze at his words, gripped with complete and immediate fear. She caught the flash of knowledge in his eyes. Nolan was staring at her, waiting for her to tell him what he clearly already knew.

Thankfully their waiter chose that moment to sweep over to the table to take their plates and replace them with a complimentary dessert of creme brulee.

Nolan handed her a spoon and took one for himself, taking the first taste of the treat meant to be shared between them. "Mmm! They really outdid themselves this time. Try it."

Emily hurriedly took a spoonful of the sweetness for herself, hardly aware of anything beyond the pounding of her heart.

Perhaps Nolan was feeling merciful, as he changed the subject and didn't skirt her trip to Tokyo again.

That small, swift exchange was marked to Emily.

It was the proof of Takeda's guidance, that for his own protection going forward, Nolan would need to be kept in the dark.

* * *

Nolan chose not to prod Emily further over her visit to Tokyo. That night, somewhere between dessert and espresso, he decided that it was enough to show her that he knew. Anything else would just be harping on, and what would be the point in that? She trusted in him, and he trusted that she would come to him whenever she had the need.

They were all they had, save for David.

 _And speaking of..._

"Emily."

"Yes?"

"Denise found where David is being held, and we're in luck. The warden there is open to...persuasion regarding a visit."

"Persuasion? You mean a bribe."

He winked at her, loving her quick mind. "You're not wrong."

"I wish it didn't have to come to that." Nolan was generous with his money to the point that an outsider might call him careless. Since the moment they came together the man had been showering her with immediate gifts and investments toward her future; it made her uncomfortable despite the several instances where she had succumbed to his delight in spoiling her to satisfy her own ends.

"'If wishes were horses we all would ride.' I think that's from a movie." He smiled lightly, dismissing her concern. "Anyway, Denise and the warden need to land on the right number, and then pick a day. I'll drive you to a certain point and then let Denise take you the rest of the way."

Emily frowned at that. In her visits with her father at Lockhart, Nolan had been present with her. "Why the switch?"

"Denise's idea, and I confirmed it myself. This location is much more secure than Lockhart was. More cameras, all of them high-def. I've already distanced myself from the Clarke name in the media. It would put me in a tough spot if I was connected with this again. I can't risk NolCorp."

"But you can risk me?"

He raised his brows and reached across the table to cover her hand with his own. "Not a red hair on your head! The team will be with you at all times."

"They were with us on the pier, too. Someone hurt you that day." Emily reminded him, hating the memory. Her face on the cover of a tabloid that had unravelled their first Hamptons summer and the confrontation outside of The Stowaway - she remembered the fear and anger she'd felt that day, the realization of her new identity that had followed.

One simple picture had played a part in birthing Emily Thorne.

"A lapse that won't happen again." Nolan said. He squeezed her fingers before withdrawing his hand. "I'll let you know when the visit can be arranged."

His words were so light, his delivery so casual, it was as if he were making plans for them to go to the movies later in the week. Some time in the very near future, Emily would see her father again. It had been near a year with no contact between them, and she wasn't even sure how she felt. Anxious and excited to see David, certainly, and so enormously grateful to Nolan for making it happen all over again.

She struggled for a moment to speak over the sudden tightness in her throat. "Thank you so much, Nolan."

"Of course, Ems. It's been too long since you've seen him, and I hope he can explain why he confessed at the trial. We didn't deserve this."

His last words surprised Emily.

He was right.

Neither she nor Nolan had deserved to be blind-sided with the rest of the world by her father's shouted confession, to be kept in the dark by what he'd done. David may have been trying to protect them in some way, but what had come of it?

Emily hadn't seen her father in person since the previous winter and Nolan had been left to remain her keeper.

They had deserved so much better.

* * *

Days later, after a show on Broadway, several restaurants and a gala thrown in honor of the NYPD, Nolan and Emily were readying themselves for the most special of reunions. Denise and the warden had found the right number - just south of two million USD, deposited anonymously into an unmarked account - and now the day was upon them...or so Nolan had thought.

As Emily was getting dressed, a gorgeous new outfit she'd chosen just for the occasion, Nolan had received a phone call from Denise herself. The news was meant to spare them the trip to the prison, leaving the city and going through the trouble of the vehicle switch and all the other extra security meansures Nolan had put into place to protect the girl.

But it was often said that God laughed at the best laid plans.

He thanked Denise and ended the call. He clenched his jaw, wondering what he could tell Emily, when she girl emerged from her room. He turned to face her, his expression was enough to rip the smile from her face.

"Nolan, what's the matter?"

"He...your father refused our visit." Even saying it out loud, it felt wrong. This didn't make sense and it couldn't be the truth. It had to be a lie that the warden told Denise.

"What?"

"We can't see him."

"Why? Did something happen?" Fear was plain on her face and in the tremble of her voice.

Nolan stared at the phone in his hand, the useless thing, then blinked away his shock to look her in the eyes. "No, David just refuses to see us." He knew that there had to be something else at work here, something bigger than all of them, some bizarre, terrible thing behind the man's 'refusal' to see his child. Americon Initiative was at work once again. "There was no notice, he hasn't been injured, he's not in isolation...I just...I don't know, but we're not seeing him today. We can't. Even if we still went to the prison, David is refusing visitation and outside contact...Emily, I promise I'll find out why."

The girl was staring at him, her eyes empty of the joy she'd shown just moments ago. All at once, she was hollow. "Why did this happen?"

"Denise worked the deal with the warden, but even David still has a few rights left while he's in prison. He has the right to refuse visitors. Denise can explain it better than I can, do you want me to call her back?" He offered.

"No. I want my father."

Nolan took a step toward her, touching her arm, "Emily, we can-"

"Stop!" She exploded, her sharp voice crashing off the walls of his apartment. She pushed past him, storming to the door. "Stop calling me that! I'm Amanda, Amanda Clarke! I'm his daughter and he won't even see me!"

It was yet another betrayal from her father, a slap in the face and she was _furious._

Nolan started after her, "Come back, we can-"

"I don't want anything else from you. I don't want this anymore, just leave me alone!"

Emily stormed out of his apartment, leaving Nolan in the cratered remains of what was supposed to be a wonderful day.

* * *

There went a stretch of time in which Emily scowled and snarled her way through Manhattan, stalking through Central Park and casting her hateful glare over every joyful holiday family, every cheerful Christmas display and every Texan tourist. She stomped a full lap around the center lake, her temples pounding with the same horrible, violent thoughts she'd had against those who had wronged her. Americon Initiative. The Graysons. Mason Treadwell. The only difference between her everyday fantasies of killing these enemies was that her own father had joined the ranks.

 _How could he refuse to see me?!_ She raged in silence as the world around her spun in celebration. She wanted to reach out and shame the man, pummel him into oblivion. His fault, all his fault, and for what?

Hot tears escaped her eyes and froze halfway down her face. Emily bit her lip to restrain its trembling but it was no use. She was too furious, too raw and exposed to compose herself.

 _How could he do that? It took so long to even find out where he was, it's bee a whole year since I've seen him! It's not fair! Why is this happening, why?_

She clenched her hands into fists and then kicked at a metal trash can, satisfied at the loud _clank_ of her foot connecting with the barrel. She took up a fallen branch and threw it into the lake. It was so stupid and pointless, this tantrum of hers, and she knew it. Sinking to her knees at the water's edge, she screamed out her rage, muffling the noise with her hands.

The scream took a lot out of her. Certainly the rage remained, certainly the confusion and frustration and sense of betrayal remained. But Emily's tantrum had come to its end. She stood up, frowning at the muddy wet knees of her jeans. It was cold, the December winds strong and bitter. She wanted to go back to the apartment, to go into her room and listen to music in her earbuds loud enough to drown out her thoughts...but no, not yet.

She put her hands in her pockets and started walking.

* * *

It was several hours later and Emily had barely taken a step over the threshold when Nolan appeared and demanded, "Where the hell were you?"

She stopped short, caught off-guard by his temper. "I went to the park, then walked around the city."

He shook his head at her plain answer. "We agreed - you tell me where you are and you always answer when I call."

Emily didn't want this, for her and Nolan to be locking horns when it had been them against the world for her father, for so long. "I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to be alone."

"I can give you time to yourself, but Emily you can't pull a bratty move like that and just ditch me when you're upset. It's too dangerous, if something were to happen to you-"

"But nothing did, Nolan! Don't you get it?" Emily threw up her hands, exasperated. "Your plan worked. I've Googled myself, there isn't a mention of Amanda Clarke anywhere - the only thing I could find was a message board posting from eight months ago, speculating my name was changed right after my picture hit the tabloid and that I got adopted by some family on the other side of the country."

The man nodded, "I always put a little of the truth in the mix, it makes the story more credible."

Emily blinked. "Wait - that was you?"

"Who else?" He shrugged, spearing fingers through his hair. "Right around the time I sent you away to school, I floated rumors throughout the net to explain why Amanda Clarke couldn't be found. Everything from you having died in a car wreck to you running away to live with your mother's relatives in Canada. After that I scrubbed the web so any searches on you would only lead to dead ends."

"Then why worry? No one would even connect the name Amanda Clarke with me, let alone recognize me now."

"You're right, but it's still the real world out there and you can't just drop out of contact whenever you want." He told her forcefully.

After the day she'd had, Nolan's overbearing tone was the last straw, "Stop parenting me, you're not my father!"

"I'm not trying to be! I'm trying to keep you safe, damn it!" Nolan snapped back at her. "You have any idea how much easier my life would be if I just cut ties with you and David right now? No more bribes for visits to the prison, no more lawyers, no more donations to the school, no more tuition, no more building the background of Emily Thorne. You really think I've been doing all that because I want to replace your father? If you think that then you have a hell of a lot to learn." Nolan turned from her, storming away.

Emily jumped when she heard the hard slam of his bedroom door.

* * *

Emily gave Nolan time to himself; she understood all too well that a high temper needed to burn itself out before the man should be approached. She waited in the living room for him to emerge, but he did not come. Not even when she'd ordered Chinese takeout for them to share - it wasn't the same place that they usually ordered from while in the Hamptons, but New York City could boast the world's best Chinese food, second only to China itself.

The way to a man's forgiveness was through his stomach, or so Emily had thought.

Clearly not, since he was ignoring the peace offering of lo mein and fried rice.

Well.

Emily steeled her nerve and approached his bedroom door. She halfway hoped that he dealt with his anger simply by going to sleep, waking up to his usual kind self in the morning. She hated feeling this way, the lingering anger over her father's refusal mingling with the guilt of what her tantrum had put Nolan through. What he'd said hit far too close to home. Despite all of his reassurances, Nolan had listed out every way she burdened his life, how much easier it would all be if he wasn't obligated to take care of her.

And how had she repaid his care? With a tantrum.

 _I'm so sorry, Nolan._

She knocked on his door and waited. He didn't come to answer.

"Nolan. Nolan are you in there?"

"Come in."

She hadn't been in his room before, but the first thing she noticed was that it was very similar to her own room in terms of its layout. Particularly the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the street and Central Park so far below. She remembered him saying that the view had been the main selling point of his city residence.

The room's overhead light was off, but there was enough light to see by coming in through the windows. She stepped in further and saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to her.

"What're you doing?"

Nolan quickly set aside the old picture he'd kept of him and Marco on a sailboat. It had been their anniversary, a full week spent in New Zealand to celebrate. Every day had been salted breezes, sunshine, love and laughter. He didn't know if he would ever be that happy again. He hadn't had the heart to get rid of the photo, even though Marco had gone off and found someone else. Nolan hadn't wanted to believe it when he'd heard the news, but it was true. Marco and his new boyfriend had relocated to Boston. They had a high-rise loft and a terrier, they ran in 5k races and hosted movie nights with all their new friends.

"I wasn't, uh, nothing. Did you need something?" He asked, turning to look at her.

Emily stepped around the bed to face him. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. You were right. I shouldn't have run away, I should've answered my cell when you called."

Nolan took a deep breath. "After David refused to see us, I shouldn't have tried to...I should have known you'd need some time alone. It's all right."

Emily shook her head, moving closer, kneeling before him on the floor so he would have no choice but to look at her. "No, it's not all right! Nolan, everything you said, everything you've done for us. For me. I've taken you for granted and I'm so, so sorry for that. I don't know what might've happened to me if it weren't for you." She reached up, taking his hands. "I could've been shipped around to group and foster homes until I aged out, and then after that I would've been on the streets. Alone, with nothing. I know my name is cursed now. I already know from my time in Millhouse what can happen when someone finds out who I really am. We almost found out by mob justice that day on the pier, but you protected me. You've been protecting me since the first day. You think I don't know that no one else is on our side? You're the only one who stood by my father. You're amazing, Nolan. You're wonderful. But why? _Why_ have you done so much for us?"

Nolan looked down at her, his beautiful friend. He pulled one of his hands from hers, to touch her face. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and struggled for the right words. "I...your father believed in me when no one else ever had. If I stand by him now, if I can help him, then it'll make us even. It'll make things right."

"That's it?" Emily asked.

Oh, she was a selfish girl, she wanted to hear him say that he loved her, but Nolan didn't say it. He didn't say he loved her, he didn't lean down and kiss her, he didn't hug her, hold her, or bring her into his bed and show her what love could be as he had in all the fantasies she conjured at night.

That he was only trying to balance the karmic scales hurt her.

"That's it."

"Okay." Emily moved to stand up, swiping at an escaped tear. "I ordered in Chinese for dinner. Can I bring you anything?"

Nolan shook his head, staring at the floor. "No."

It was clear enough that Nolan didn't want her now. He wanted to be left alone. She could understand and respect that, though his dismissal stung. "All right, good night Nolan."

The man nodded as she departed his bedroom. "Good night Ems."


	30. Chapter 30

The remaining days following found the two in an uneasy truce. They hadn't spoken of their conflict, the angry words or the disjointed resolution that had taken place afterward. They had gone on taking in shows and shopping and out to expensive public dinners with their pictures splashed across social media - Nolan Ross the tech wizard and his cousin companion Emily Thorne.

There was an unspoken gulf between them and neither knew how to bridge the gap.

For the first time, Emily had been relieved when the time came for her to return to school. She had hugged and kissed the man before boarding his plane, feeling this would be the last time she'd see him. His words had been branded into her mind. Emily was a burden to Nolan, he'd said so himself. It was time to put some distance between them and take certain matters into her own hands.

Satoshi Takeda was her way to that end.

* * *

When Emily returned to her dormitory room, she kept to herself for a time.

The flight had been draining.

On entering her room, she'd left her luggage - what she'd brought with her to New York and the other bags stuffed tight with Nolan's yuletide generosity - by the door and headed straight to her kitchenette where she gulped down three glasses of water, one right after the other. She set the glass aside and took several deep breaths, enjoying the silence of her room.

The semester wouldn't begin for several days and she felt content to cut herself off from technology and the few other students who had returned early from their holidays. She had made quick small talk with her friends but claimed a headache every time they knocked on her door to invite her out on an adventure.

Simply, she was unhappy and adventures with the other students, these carefree people she lied to constantly, held no appeal.

Everything was unbalanced.

Supposedly her father had refused to see her, though that could have been the Initiative at work. She knew her father never would have refused a visit. Never. Not unless they had threatened him, which was likely why he had shouted out his confession over the summer.

And Nolan would surely be happier once free of his obligation to the Clarke family.

The thought crossed her mind to run away, but where would she go? She was still a minor and had no access to the majority of her money.

No.

No, running wasn't an option.

Emily flopped back onto her dorm bed and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn't run, but she could free herself and in doing so, she could free Nolan.

Not long after the end of spring semester, she would turn sixteen - the age of legal emancipation in America.

* * *

Toward the end of the week, Emily had only been checking her new semester schedule online when a communication window opened on her screen. Where she expected to see Nolan, the stern face of Satoshi Takeda greeted her instead. She was so surprised to see him that she didn't say anything, the pair simply looked at each other. A stare spanning thousands of miles.

"Emily."

His voice snapped her out of her surprise in seeing him, and she dipped her head in respect. Something of a bow. "Mr. Takeda. Good morning."

"It is well past the morning here. What happened during your time in America?"

If anything, the man was direct. He refused to call her by her true name; he'd told her before that he wanted her to embrace Emily Thorne, fully commit to the identity Nolan had given her.

The man wasn't asking about the gifts she'd received for Christmas or the restaurants in New York. He was only interested in what she might have learned about Americon Initiative, her father, the Graysons, anything that might be useful to their cause. She wished she had more to tell him.

"My father refused to see me."

"I am sorry."

His condolence was curt, but sincere. Emily understood that softness was not his way, still she had to tell him, "I'm a burden to Nolan. It would be easier for him if I didn't go back."

"Easier? Only maybe. And what would you do, if you did not go back to America to be with him? Where would you go?"

"I don't know." Emily faltered. "I went to London before I came to Tokyo. I was trying to...I don't know, relive some of the memories with my father there, I guess. It was stupid, it made me so upset that I cut my trip early."

"And then you came here-"

"And was caught immediately." She finished the thought. "I'm not the spy I thought I could be."

"Reading books does not make an expert. Only practice can do that."

"I thought I was practicing. All the different looks I've had through school, my new name. I tried to build Emily Thorne every day."

"You've only set out a foundation, there is more to learn. You will be taught." He declared.

"How?"

The man took a deep breath before answering her. "Americon Initiative stole my fiancé. They stole your father. You said you wanted to expose the people behind the attack."

Emily did not hesitate. "That's what I want more than anything, so long as my father goes free."

"Then you have more power than you know. Your training will begin tomorrow."

* * *

The new semester would be arduous. Two hours into her new schedule and Emily was already regretting the high marks she'd achieved the year previous that had earned her way into the advanced classes, to say nothing of the electives she'd chosen.

Monday was her biology lab, history, piano lessons, calculus, German, and she had had her first polo practice - she had found she loved the horse more than the game itself, but she'd stick it out for the semester. At the end of the day, all she wanted was to take a shower and watch some television before bed. Hiking the heavy backpack over her shoulders, the girl had stepped across the threshold of her dorm room and just about jumped out of her skin at the sight that greeted her.

A man was sitting in her desk chair, his expectant expression showing that he'd clearly been waiting on her.

He hurriedly stood and showed that his hands were empty. "I'm not here to hurt you, Emily. Takeda sent me."

Relief rushed through her, but she didn't trust this man. Emily didn't trust anyone but for two people in all the world.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Call me Aiden." He inclined his head to her. "Americon Initiative took your father. They took my sister. Takeda is putting plans in the works for people like us."

Emily blinked, trying to process everything this stranger was telling her. "Us? How many of us are there?"

"More than enough. We've all lost someone to the Initiative." His voice hardened. "We'll settle for justice, but our true aim is revenge."

The word was a flame, a sharp trigger to the darkest reach of her soul.

 **Revenge.**

The realization of her most furious fantasies - the violent, humiliating exposure of Americon Initiative, Mason Treadwell and most of all, that simpering bitch Victoria Grayson...

 _Oh, God, yes._

"Tell me what I have to do."


	31. Chapter 31

At first, all Emily and Aiden did was talk. About their families, the past - the way the world was before Americon Initiative. Things had been more carefree, then. They had only been focused on themselves. He on his blossoming career, she on the excitement of entering high school. They'd had their friends, their family, their perfect picture of what their futures had been meant to look like.

They spoke of where they had been when the news of 197 had reached them.

Aiden spoke of his sister.

At first, Emily hadn't spoken about anything of consequence. She didn't trust this "Aiden" and so she never admitted the name of her father or her connection to Nolan. Not at first. Not until Takeda had confirmed his trust. This man could be an agent of the Initiative, wearing a wire and just waiting for the word to throw her into a van and take her somewhere to be _dealt with_.

The last two years had made her paranoid.

It wasn't two seconds after Aiden had left her room that first night that Emily had rushed to her computer to contact Takeda and confirm that he had, in fact, sent this young man to her.

"Why?"

"For what is coming, you will need support and guidance. Aiden has done work for me in the past. I trust him." For Takeda, a man reknown for his cleverness in business, to trust anyone - particularly an outsider - was noteworthy.

"What kind of work?"

"Delicate work." Takeda said shortly. The man did not elaborate. "He was in Tokyo when the plane went down."

"He said he lost his sister."

"We have all lost someone."

Emily nodded. "He said that too."

"Once you are settled in with your class schedule, Aiden will come to see you again. In the meantime, he did leave you his contact information, yes?"

"Yes. An e-mail address and a phone number."

"Good."

"Mr. Takeda." Emily hesitated and took a deep breath. "I know you trust him, but can I?"

"Yes."

That was all Takeda would say, and it would have to be enough.

* * *

Emily pushed through her classes and met with Aiden several times a week.

He explained that he had served in the British army, but an injury had forced him out of the service and into private enterprise where he had worked as one of Mr. Takeda's bodyguards. He would take her walking though the city to observe people and learn how to deduce pieces of their lives. In addition to this, he had also taught her a variety of offbeat skills: how to pick a lock, how to steal a watch in a handshake and how to steal a wallet through an embrace; the common places to look for security cameras and how to make quick changes to her wardrobe to confuse pursuers while in a crowd.

True spy skills that Emily had only ever read about, now they were becoming commonplace in her life.

It was also a deep comfort to have someone to talk to, someone who understood.

In certain ways, Aiden understood even better than Nolan did. For all his love and protection, Nolan couldn't fully share in her _rage_.

She felt guilty in her lies of omission, as obviously she never wanted these people to cross paths, but not guilty enough to come clean with everything. As stressful as maintaining this balance was, Emily enjoyed walking in both worlds. The cold, ugly thing was growing inside of her, feeding off the hope that someday - someday soon, God willing - she would see her father free and their enemies ruined.

Takeda had the resources to provide her with the training it would take to infiltrate their common enemy. The girl wasn't naive. She knew there would be a price to all of this. She knew that she was sacrificing something of herself. In moving down this path, she would fully become a liar, a manipulator, a friendless, near-soulless monster of a woman...but if that was the cost to free her father, she would pay it tenfold.

 _Whatever it takes_ \- this was her mantra, and she walked with it, proudly, every day.

* * *

Aiden wiped the blood from his lip, courtesy of Emily's elbow. "You're getting better at channeling your anger. You seem more focused."

What he said was true. They had created a routine in which Emily would meet him at a training studio, the rented space clearly Takeda's doing. Aiden was a fighter and he was determined that Emily learn to be as well. On her first visit, he had attacked her from the dark without warning, easily wrestling her down to the ground and pinning her to the floor. She had been terrified, then furious. Then she had demanded that he teach her.

That had been six weeks ago.

It had been rough going, what with Emily's impatience and frustration at constantly being bested by her more experienced foe. Aiden had not gone easy on her, subduing her again and again, pinning her to the floor and against every wall in the studio. Her arms, legs, neck and face had seen their share of bruising under his instruction. Thankfully she had become adept with concealer.

Still, no matter how sore she'd be, Emily had refused to give up and here was her reward. A small measure of progress in Aiden's cut lip.

"Thank you."

Emily crossed the room and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, her mind halfway moving on to the German test she had in the morning, and the piece she'd chosen for her piano recital in two weeks. She was growing even better at the compartmentalization that this life of lies demanded of her.

Aiden watched as she gulped from her water bottle and dabbed at the sweat gathered on her neck. He licked his lip, wincing at the sting. She was a singular young woman, and he was curious.

"You have a vision for the future, Emily? How do you see things playing out?"

He thought she would ignore his question, but she took in a deep breath and turned to him. "I kept a fantasy for a time. While my father was in prison and I stayed with Nolan, I used to dream of a life after this was all over. My father would be free, then Nolan and I - ah, all three of us would just disappear from the world. We'd all go off to live on an island where no one knew us, we'd be free from the media and The Initiative." Her jaw tensed and she blinked rapidly, three times. "Pretty dumb, huh?"

"No. It's a beautiful dream. I have thoughts like that too, that I'd see my sister again, that we would go home and just be safe and happy." He shrugged and reached over her shoulder to turn off the light. The studio went dark, and they stepped outside. The cool night air was welcome on their sweaty skin. "The only difference is that your fantasy could still come true."

They set off walking down the street where they usually parted ways. Emily back to her school dormitory, Aiden off to parts unknown. "I'd be so happy if my father was free. The rest of it, that's the fantasy that won't come true." She shrugged, resigned. "I can live without us all going away together, but I can't live with my father taking on the blame for what The Initiative did, just to protect me."

They had reached the corner and Aiden turned to her. "He's only doing what every father would do." He looked at her, and knew that her friend Nolan had probably told her the exact same thing several times since this had all started. Instead of harping on the issue, he asked her another question. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"

"More training?"

"No. I'm taking you to dinner."

His answer took her off-guard, but still Emily accepted. "I...all right."

And so they moved from one stage of partnership and on to the next.


End file.
